LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


This  "0-P  Book"  Is  an  Authorized  Reprint  of  the 
Original  Edition,  Produced  by  Microfilm-Xerography  by 
University  Microfilms,  Inc.,  Ann  Arbor,  Michigan,  1966 


THE 


DREAM  OF  A  DAY, 


AND 


OTHER    POEMS. 


BY 


JAMES  G.  PERCIVAL. 


V 


NEW  HAVEN.. 

PRINTED  AND  PUDLISHED  BY  S.  BADCOCK. 
lifl  CHAPKL  STREET. 

1813. 


*  -•* 


£•  '  '•  1 

',  '        •• 

v  »      c* 


r 


Entered,  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  18-13, 

BY  JAMES   G.  PERCIVAL, 

In  the  office  of  the  Clt-rk  of  the  District  Court  of  Connecticut. 


t  •  > 
<J  -  j 


PREFACE. 


THE  present  volume  is  composed,  for  the  most  part,  of  a  series 
of  shorter  pieces,  part  of  which  have  been  published  in  a  fugitive 
form,  at  different  intervals  since  tiie  publication  of  my  last  volume 
(Clio,  No.  Ill,  1^27,)  and  part  of  which  h:ive  till  now  remained  in 
manuscript.  The  longer  piece,  at  the  commencement  of  the  vol 
ume,  takes  its  name  (Drearn  of  a  Day)  partly  from  its  subject,  and 
partly  from  the  time  in  which  it  was  written.  This  is  one  of  the 
later  written  pieces.  The  others  arc  arranged,  mostly,  in  the  order 
of  time  in  which  they  were  written.  The  reader  will  perceive,  in 
running  over  the  volume,  that  a  great  variety  of  measur*>  is  intro 
duced,  (more  than  one  hundred  and  fifty  different  forms  or  modifi 
cations  of  stanza,)  much  of  which  is  l>orrowed  from  the  verse  of 
other  languages,  particularly  of  the  German.  This  last  is  espe 
cially  true  of  the  Lays  (p.  10  i— 127.)  The  Songs  (p.  67—69)  are 
from  Spanish  and  Italian  measures.  The  imitations  of  different 


IV.  PREFACE. 

Classic  measures,  as  well  as  the  Songs  for  National  Airs,  are  more 
particularly  explained  in  the  introduction  to  each.  In  adopting 
different  measures  from  the  German,  I  was  led,  by  their  peculiar 
rhythm,  to  use  our  adjective  adverbially,  according  to  the  German 
idiom,  and  I  may  add,  according  to  the  idiom  of  our  Saxon  ances 
tors,  still  retained  in  the  expressive  language  of  common  life. 
This  form  of  expression  is  certainly  more  energetic  than  that  in 
which  we  use  the  constantly  recurrinsr  and  cumbrous  adverbial 
sulllx  /y.  It  may  not,  however,  !»e  sactioned  by  ircner.d  usage, 
the  legislator  in  a'.i  matters  of  lan-tia^e. 

The  limits  of  the  present  volume,  as  well  as  the  character  of  it* 
contents  in  general,  have  precluded  from  it  a  scries  of  specimens 
of  different  varieties  or  systems  of  national  verse,  in  which  I  had 
desisrned  to  give,  under  the  general  head  of  "  Studies  in  Verse," 
imitations  cf  the  versification  of  all  accessible  cultivated  language*, 
systematically  arranged,  and  illustrated  by  comments.  These,  as 
well  as  a  quite  extensive  series  of  Translations  from  different 
lan:nia:res,  (accompanied  with  illustrative  rt  marks.)  part  of  which 
have  been  already  published  in  a  fugitive  form,  and  part  of  which 
still  remain  in  manuscript,  may  hereafter  furnish  materials  for  an 
other  volume,  if  an  opportunity  should  ever  offer  for  their  publi 
cation. 

In  the  Ions  interval  which  h;is  clapped  since  the  publication  of 
mv  last  volume  of  poems,  (sixteen  years,)  I  have  been  most  of  the 
time  engaged  in  pursuits  which  have  had  little  or  no  relation  to 
poetical  studies,  or  which  have  been  jn'culiarly  adverse  to  them; 
consequently,  during  this  period,  the  comj>osition  of  verse  has 
been  to  me  or.lv  an  occasional  amusement  or  exercise.  As  such 


PREFACE.  V. 

I  offer  this  volume ;  not  as  the  fruits  of  a  continued  and  regular 
study  of  an  art,  which,  for  the  high  principles  it  involves,  and  the 
great  powers  which  it  demands  for  its  true  and  most  successful 
cultivation,  deserves  to  hold  a  place  in  the  first  rank.  It  is  un 
necessary  to  say  anything  in  vindication  of  an  art,  which  requires 
a  mastery  of  the  riches  and  niceties  of  a  language ;  a  full  knowledge 
of  the  science  of  versification,  not  only  in  its  own  peculiar  princi 
ples  of  rhythm  and  melody,  but  in  its  relations  to  elocution  and 
music,  with  that  delicate  natural  perception,  and  that  facile  ex 
ecution,  which  render  the  composition  of  verse  hardly  less  easy 
than  that  of  prose;  a  deep  and  quick  insight  into  the  nature  of 
man,  in  all  his  varied  facilities,  intellectual  :ind  emotive;  a  clear 
and  full  perception  of  the  power  and  beauty  of  nature,  und  of  all 
its  various  harmonies  with  our  own  thoughts  and  feelings;  and  to 
gain  a  high  rank  in  the  present  age,  wide  and  exact  attainments 
in  literature  and  art  in  general.  Nor  is  the  j»ossession  of  such 
faculties  and  attainments  all  that  is  necessary ;  but  such  a  sus 
tained  and  self-collected  state  of  mind  as  gives  one  the  m:ist<  ry 
of  his  iieniuK,  and  at  the  same  time  presents  to  him  the  ideal  as 
an  immediate  reality,  not  as  a  remote  conception.  Such  a  culti 
vation  of  the  poetical  art  is  only  for  those  who  can  devote  them 
selves  to  it  under  favourable  auspices  ;  not  for  one  who  can  only 
give  to  it,  now  and  then,  a  few  moments  of  leisure. 

NEW  HAYEX,  JULY, 


ERRATA. 

Page  33.  line  2,  for  "  first  of  day,"  read,  first  day. 
Page  39,  line  23,  insert  comma  at  end  of  line. 
Page  175,  line  i>,  road  !  at  end  of  line. 

«*       «*     line  23,  after  "comfort,'*  insert  comma. 
Page  192,  nt  end  of  line  8,  read  period,  in  part  of  the  edition. 
Page  21U,  line  3,  (Alcaic,)  after  "youth,"  insert  comma. 


CONTENTS. 


The  Dream  of  a  Day, 9 

Genius  Waking,        --......          20 

To  the  Kagfo, 24 

Seneca  Lake, 23 

Lays  of  the  Seasons.    Spring,  Summer,  Autumn,  Winter,    33 — 30 

The  Light  Guitar,    - 3S 

The  Vintage  Dance, 40 

Song,        --•.--....          40 

S«ng. -      41 

To  a  Butterfly,          -        -        -  .        .        .        .          40 

The  Voice  of  Nature, 43 

Son* 50 

Song, 50 

Sappho, M 

Sonnets.     I — IX,         •        .        ...        .        .        .       5<j &> 

The  Contrast,  ........          (33 

Ballad w 

Songs.     I—HI,          ........  67— C'j 

Greek  Appeal  to  America,  1827,         .        .        -        .        .71 

Our  Flag, 73 

Spring, 73 

Youth  Recalled, 73 

A  Vision, ..        .        -81 


VIII. 


CONTENTS. 


The  Poet's  World,  -        - 

Minnesong.    I— III, 85-87 

The  Knight, *> 

Life's  Dream,       .-...--•-      02 
The  Ilexli,  (Little  Witch,)       ......          05 

The  Maiden, 9* 

The  Power  of  Song, -100 

Lays.     I— XXII, 101— 127 

Slavonia.     Parti.     I— V, 13O-13I 

II.    Russia.     I,  II,      ..-  135,  136 

Servia.      1,11,  -         -         -  137,  l.'H 

Poland.     1,11,       -         -         •  130,110 

Bohemia.     I,  II,       -  112,  1 13 

Temonia.     Hope, 115 

Skating,     -        -        -        -        •        -        -        -     1 17 

The  Charge, 11 0 

The  Wild  Hunter, 150 

The  Hunter  Death, 153 

The  Bard,          -        -        -        -        -        -        -     155 

Songs.     I— XXI, 159—181 

The  Sister  Spirits.    A  Cantata,           ....  18*2 

Classic  Melodies.     Part  I, 18G— 105 

II,  .....     197—220 

Songs  for  National  Airs.  ......        222 

- Norwegian.    I,  II,      -        -  223 

German.    I— XVIII,        -        221—211 

Russian.     I— III,        -        -    2-12—211 

. Bohemian.     I— III,          -        215—217 

Gaelic.     I— IV,  .        -    210—253 

Welsh.     I— IV,       -        -        255—250 

The  Norns, -  201 


THE 


DREAM   OF   A   DAY, 


AND 


OTHER  POEMS. 


THE  DREAM  OF  A  DAY. 


IN  silent  gloom  the  world  before  me  lay- 
In  deepest  night  embosomed  it  reposed ; 

All  genial  hues  of  life  had  passed  away — 
In  sleep  profound  the  eye  of  day  had  closed ; 

Beamed  through  the  voiceless  calm  no  fitful  ray- 
Great  Nature's  heart  to  stillness  all  composed ; 

Oblivious  dreams  alone  were  moving  there, 

Like  soft  wings  fanning  light  the  summer  air. 
2 


10  .         THE    DREAM   OF   A    DAY. 

Meseemed  a  rustling  plume  was  hovering  o'er  me— 
Unwonted  yearnings  thronged  around  my  heart ; 

A  spirit,  half  unseen,  stood  dim  before  me— 
I  caught  the  vision  with  unconscious  start, 

And  suddenly  a  shadowy  grasp  upbore  me, 
Swift  as  the  glancing  of  a  feathered  dart — 

Gently  as  stream  of  air  through  darkness  gliding, 

Then  softly  as  on  pilloved  down  subsiding. 

Silence  was  broken,  as  my  flight  descended— 
A  whispered  tone  of  most  /Eolian  sweetness, 

Where  many  voices  seemed  accordant  blended, 
All  to  a  dulcet  swell  of  full  completeness, 

Breathing  as  if  by  golden  harps  attended, 

Now  lingering  slow,  now  waked  to  magic  fleet- 
ness, 

Heaved  now  in  solemn  surge,  now  faintly  falling, 

Like  voice  of  love  in  airy  distance  calling. 

Again  all  laid  in  deeper  calm,  as  when 

The  midnight  storm,  far  o'er  the  hills  departing, 

Murmurs  in  echoes  lightly  first,  and  then 
Wliispers  its  soft  farewell,  the  spirit  starting 

At  the  still  hush  that  follows,  or  as  when  pain, 
Like  flashes  through  the  frame  intensely  darting, 

Yields  to  a  soothing  balm,  how  blest  reposes 

The  heart,  and  slumber  sweet  the  eye-lid  closes. 


THE    DREAM    OF   A   DAY.  11 

All  lay  a  void  before  me,  when  afar 

Just  gleamed,  as  moonlight  through  a  rifted  cloud, 
A  tremulous  ray,  fainter  than  smallest  star 

Quivering  through  haze,  and  dim  as  spectre  shroud 
Floating  in  night  of  caves,  while  round  the  air 

Gathered  intenser  gloom :  as  ocean,  plowed 
By  gliding  keel,  trembles  in  liquid  light, 
So  dawned  that  ray  forth  from  profoundest  night. 

Slowly  it  dawned,  and  images  arose 

From  out  the  void,  as  worlds  from  chaos  born, 

Hovering  like  phantoms  o'er  a  stream  that  flows 
Deep  under  veil  of  mist  in  earliest  morn: 

As  leafy  boughs,  when  fresh  the  zephyr  blows, 
Shift  in  the  wave,  or  on  the  dew-bright  thorn 

Quick  rainbows  dance,  uncertain  so  they  played, 

And  half  unveiled,  amid  that  world  of  shade. 

Then  from  the  abyss,  as  pillared  flame  ascending, 
Upstreamed  a  fuller  day,  and  widely  rolled 

Its  kindling  light,  distincter  being  lending 

To  what  seemed  shadowy  dreams ;  its  iris  fold 

Turned  slowly  back  the  night,  in  vain  contending 
Before  its  fulgent  arms :  first  silver)'  cold 

They  gleamed,  then  warm  and  golden  glowed  be 
fore  me; 

Earth   smiled  around,  and  heaven's  blue  glittered 
o'er  me. 


12  THE    DREAM    OF    A    DAT. 

A  scene  of  orient  pomp,  where  lay  united 
In  loved  embrace  the  vivid  and  the  tender — 

Temple  and  tower,  by  sclf-eflulgence  lighted, 
Streaming  through  clustered  palms  their  magic 
splendor — 

Column,  the  fervent  pilgrim  hailed  delighted, 
Reared  to  his  country's  saviour  and  defender — 

Palace,. whose  thousand  windows,  ruby-Hashing, 

Tinted  the  fountain  o'er  its  terrace  dashing. 

Again  in  classic  beauty  still  reposing, 
A  soft  Ionian  sky  above  it  swelling — 

Long  flowery  vales  in  gentle  vistas  closing- 
Peaks  snowy  pure,  dark  summits  cloud-compel 
ling— 

Smooth  marble  hills,  the  wandering  bee  composing 
To  nectared  sleep— rocks,  the  mysterious  dwelling 

Of  prescient  god — bright  city,  fitly  moulded, 

Round  lofty  fane  and  citadel  enfolded. 

Again  wild  nature — Alp  on  Alp  uplifted, 
Shooting  into  the  heaven  in  pointed  pride — 

Rose-tinted  snows,  blue  glassy  torrents  rifted 
Deep  to  dark  night — dim  gorges  yawning  wide 

Mid  jetty  crags,  o'er  which  the  cat'ract,  drifted 
In  surging  foam, heaved  broad  its  thundering  tide — 

Far  glimpses  through  rude  glens  to  lake  and  stream 

Reposing  peacefully,  as  in  a  dream. 


THE    DREAM    OF   A    DAY.  13 

And  then  a  pastoral  scene  of  my  own  land  — 
Groves  darkly  green,  white  farms,  and  pastures 


With  golden  flowers  —  brooks  stealing  over  sand 
Or  smooth  worn  pebbles,  murmuring  light  away  — 

Blue  rye-fields,  yielding  to  the  gentle  hand 
Of  the  cool  west  wind  —  scented  fields  of  hay, 

Falling  in  purple  bloom  —  free  hearts  that  feel 

Their  being  doubled  in  their  country's  weal. 

And  there  my  heart  reposed,  as  mother  yearning 
Over  her  cradled  infant,  sweetly  smiling 

In  innocent  dreams  —  its  rose  lip  lightly  turning 
In  slumbering  joy,  some  shape  of  love  beguiling 

Its  quiet  soul  to  bliss  ;  so  I,  discerning 

Those  scenes  where  erst  my  happy  spirit,  whiling 

In  sportful  peace  life's  dawn  away,  yet  knew 

No  griefs  that  wring,  felt  life  revived  anew. 

Beneath  a  broad  crowned  oak,  on  sloping  hill 
Overlooking  wide  the  lovely  region  round, 

On  soft  thick  turf  I  lay  :  the  air  was  still  — 
Distinctly  heard  was  each  remotest  sound, 

The  clacking  wheel  in  cornfield,  at  the  mill 
The  circling  plash,  and  far  the  faint  rebound 

Of  low  and  bleat  from  mountain  side,  the  stir 

Of  insect  swarms,  the  drone  bee's  hum  and  s\virr. 
2* 


14  THE    DREAM    OF   A    DAY. 

The  sun  rolled  on  to  noon ;  through  the  light  leaves 
Scarce  quiv'ring  in  the  tremulous  air,  the  blue 

Of  heaven  looked  gently,  as  when  fondly  weaves 
Young  love  its  tenderest  smile,  while  trembling 
through 

Checked  tears — for  even  when  blest  it  inly  grieves 
Unconscious — darts  its  glance,  as  light  through 
dew. 

In  the  cool  shade  I  lay,  while  o'er  the  ground 

Waved  the  wann  undulations  wide  around. 

Half  slumbering  I  lay^then  as  a  veil 
Fell  the  faint  lid,  and  dim  the  scene  afar 

Floated  in  magic  shade  :  the  freshening  gale, 
Breathed  from  the  rolling  sea,  then  stirred  the  air, 

And  whispering  softly,  as  the  fond  heart's  tale 
Told  in  the  twilight  dusk,  awoke  me  there 

With  its  cool  kisses ;  low  the  sun  descending 

With  the  blue  mountain  haze  was  richly  blending. 

Evening  came  on  apace — in  full  orbed  glory 

The  sun  drew  to  his  couch — through  vista'd  trees 

He  glided — flashing  broad  and  full  he  wore  a 
Look  of  unwonted  joy,  for  rest  and  case 

After  his  day  of  toil — far  clouds  hung  hoary 
Along  the  east,  then  kindled  by  degrees 

As  slow  ho  sunk — fresh  bloomed  tae  aerial  rose, 

While  streamed  the  West,  as  gushing  furnace  glows. 


THE    DREAM    OP   A    DAY.  15 

Twilight  ere  long  to  solemn  darkness  faded— 
The  wide  funereal  flame  grew  amber  clear, 

And  ever  lower  sinking,  softly  shaded 

Its  light  with  mellower  tints — round  the  wide 
sphere 

A  belt  of  palest  violet  was  braided, 

Pale  as  the  flower  we  scatter  on  the  bier ; 

This  died  away,  and  one  by  one  on  high 

The  stars  took  up  their  night-watch  in  the  sky. 

I  sat  amid  the  darkness,  and  above 

The  oak  looked  spectrally,  while  every  star 

Hung  o'er  me  like  a  messenger  of  love, 

Herald  of  some  fair  world,  if  world  more  fair 

Than  this  brave  earth  has  being;  as  a  dove 
Hovering  suspended  in  the  summer  air, 

Peace  brooded  with  light  wings  the  voiceless  sleep 

Of  tired  hearts  beating  low  in  slumber  deep. 

A  spirit  stood  before  me  half  unseen, 
Majestic  and  severe,  yet  o'er  him  played 

A  genial  light — subdued  though  high  his  mica, 
As  by  a  strong  collected  spirit  swayed — 

In  even  balance  justly  poised  between 

Each  wild  extreme,  proud  strength  by  feeling 
stayed — 

Dwelling  in  upper  realms  serenely  bright, 

Lifted  above  the  shadowy  sphere  of  night. 


16  THE    DREAM    OF   A   DAY. 

He  stooJ  before  me,  and  I  heard  a  tone, 
Such  as  from  mortal  lips  had  never  flowed, 

Soft  yet  commanding,  gentle  yet  alone 

It  bowed  the  listener's  heart — anon  it  glowed 

Intensely  fervent,  then  like  wood  notes  thrown 
On  the  chance  winds,  in  airy  lightness  rode — 

Now  swelled  like  ocean  surge,  now  pausing  fell 

Like  the  last  murmur  of  a  muffled  bell. 

"  Lone  pilgrim  through  life's  gloom,"  thus  spake  the 
shade, 

"  Hold  on  with  steady  will  along  thy  way : 
Thou  by  a  kindly  favoring  hand  wert  made — 

Hard  though  thy  lot,  yet  thine  what  can  repay 
Long  years  of  bitter  toil — the  holy  aid 

Of  spirit  aye  is  thine,  be  that  thy  stay  : 
Thine  to  behold  the  true,  to  feel  the  pure, 
To  know  the  good  and  lovely — these  endure. 

Hold  on — thou  hast  in  thee  thy  best  reward ; 

Poor  are  the  largest  stores  of  sordid  gain, 
If  from  the  heaven  of  thought  the  soul  is  barred, 

If  the  high  spirit's  bliss  is  sought  in  vain  : 
Think  not  thy  lonely  lot  is  cold  or  hard, 

The  world  has  never  bound  thee  with  its  chain ; 
Free  as  the  birds  of  heaven  thy  heart  can  soar, 
Thou  canst  create  new  worlds — what  wouldst  thou 
more? 


THE    DREAM    OF   A    DAY.  17 

The  future  age  will  know  thee — yea,  even  now 
Hearts  beat  and  tremble  at  thy  bidding,  tears 

Flow  as  thou  movest  thy  wand,  thy  word  can  bow 
Even  ruder  natures,  the  dull  soul  uprears 

As  thou  thy  trumpet  blast  attunest — thou 
Speakest,  and  each  remotest  valley  hears : 

Thou  hast  the  gift  of  song — a  wealth  is  thine, 

Richer  than  all  the  treasures  of  the  mine. 

Hold  on,  glad  spirits  company  thy  path — 
They  minister  to  thee,  though  all  unseen  : 

Even  when  the  tempest  lifts  its  voice  in  wrath, 
Thou  joyest  in  its  strength ;  the  orient  sheen 

Gladdens  thee  with  its  beauty ;  winter  hath 
A  holy  charm  that  soothes  thee,  like  the  green 

Of  infant  May — all  nature  is  ihy  friend, 

All  seasons  to  thy  life  enchantment  lend. 

Man  too  thou  know'st  and  feelest — all  the  springs 
That  wake  his  smile  and  tear,  his  joy  and  sorrow, 

All  that  uplifts  him  on  emotion's  wings, 

Each  longing  for  a  fair  and  blest  to-morrow, 

Each  tone  that  soothes  or  saddens,  all  that  rings 
Joyously  to  him,  thou  canst  fitly  borrow 

From  thy  own  breast,  and  blend  it  in  a  strain, 

To  which  each  human  heart  beats  back  again. 


18  THE    DREAM    OF   A    DAY. 

Thine  the  unfettered  thought,  alone  controlled 
By  nature's  truth ;  thine  the  wide-seeing  eye, 

Catching  the  delicate  shades,  yet  apt  to  hold 
The  whole  in  its  embrace — before  it  lie 

Pictured  in  fairest  light,  as  chart  unrolled, 
Fields  of  the  present  and  of  destiny : 

The  voice  of  truth  amid  the  senseless  throng 

May  now  be  lost ;  'tis  heard  and  felt  ere  long. 

Hold  on — live  for  the  world — live  for  all  time- 
Rise  in  thy  conscious  power,  but  gently  bear 

Thy  form  among  thy  fellows ;  sternly  climb 

The  spirit's  alpine  peaks ;  mid  snow  towers  there 

Nurse  the  pure  thought,  but  yet  accordant  chime 
With  lowlier  hearts  in  valleys  green  and  fair.~ 

Sustain  thyself — yield  to  no  meaner  hand, 

Even  though  he  rule  awhile  thy  own  dear  land. 

Brief  is  his  power,  oblivion  waits  the  churl 
Bound  to  his  own  poor  self;  his  form  decays, 

But  sooner  fades  his  name.     Thou  shalt  unfurl 
Thy  standard  to  the  winds  of  future  days — 

Well  mayest  thou  in  thy  soul  defiance  hurl 

On  such  who  would  subdue  thee  ;  thou  shalt  raise 

Thy  name,  when  they  are  dust,  and  nothing  more : 

Hold  on — in  earnest  hope  still  look  before. 


THE    DREAM   OF   A   DAY.  19 

Nerved  to  a  stern  resolve,  fulfill  thy  lot — 
Reveal  the  secrets  nature  has  unveiled  thee ; 

All  higher  gifts  by  toil  intense  are  bought — 
Has  thy  firm  will  in  action  ever  failed  thee? 

Only  on  distant  summits  fame  is  sought — 

Sorrow  and  gloom  thy  nature  has  entailed  thee, 

But  bright  thy  present  joys,  and  brighter  far 

The  hope  that  draws  thee  like  a  heavenly  star." 

The  voice  was  still — its  tone  in  distance  dying 
Breathed  in  my  ear,  like  harp  faint  heard  at  even, 

Soft  as  the  autumn  wind  through  sere  leaves  sighing, 
When  flaky  clouds  athwart  the  moon  are  driven. 

Far  through  the  viewless  gloom  the  spirit  flying, 
Winged  his  high  passage  to  his  native  heaven, 

But  o'er  me  still  he  seemed  in  kindness  bending, 

Fresh  hope  and  firmer  purpose  to  me  lending. 


GENIUS  WAKING. 


heavy  chain  hath  bound  thee— 

Where  is  now  thy  fire  ? 
Feebler  wings  are  gathering  round  thee— 

Shall  they  hover  higher  ? 
Can  no  power,  no  spell  recall  thee 

From  inglorious  dreams? 
O!  could  glory  so  appall  thee 

With  his  burning  beams  ? 

Thine  was  once  the  highest  pinion 

In  the  midway  air; 
With  a  proud  and  sure  dominion, 

Thou  didst  upward  bear — 
Like  the  herald,  winged  with  lightning, 

From  the  Olympian  throne, 
Ever  mounting,  ever  brightening, 

Thou  wert  there  alone. 


OKXIUS   WAK1KO. 

Where  the  pillared  props  of  heaven 

Glitter  with  eternal  snows, 
Where  no  darkling  clouds  are  driven, 

Where  no  fountain  flows — 
Far  above  the  rolling  thunder, 

When  the  surging  storm 
Rent  its  sulphury  folds  asunder, 

We  beheld  thy  form. 

O!  what  rare  and  heavenly  brightness 

Flowed  around  thy  plumes, 
As  a  cascade's  foamy  whiteness 

Lights  a  cavern's  glooms — 
Wheeling  tlirough  the  shadowy  ocean, 

Like  a  shape  of  light, 
With  serene  and  placid  motion, 

Thou  wert  dazzling  bright. 

From  that  cloudless  region  stooping, 

Downward  thou  didst  rush, 
Not  with  pinion  faint  and  drooping, 

But  the  tempest's  gush — 
Up  again  undaunted  soaring, 

Thou  didst  pierce  the  cloud, 
When  the  warring  winds  were  roaring 

Fearfully  and  loud. 
3 


22  GENIUS   WAKING. 

Where  is  now  that  restless  longing 

After  higher  things — 
Come  they  not,  like  visions,  thronging 

On  their  airy  wings — 
Why  should  not  their  plow  enchant  thec 

Upward  to  their  bliss  ? 
Surely  danger  cannot  daunt  thee 

From  a  heaven  like  this. 

But  thon  slumbcrest — faint  and  quivering 

Hangs  thy  milled  wing, 
Like  a  dove's  in  winter  shivering, 

Or  a  foohlor  thing. 
Whore  is  now  thy  might  and  motion, 

Thy  imperial  flight  I 
Where  is  now  thy  heart's  devotion, 

Where  thy  spirit's  light  ? 

Hark — his  rustling  plumage  gathers 

Closer  to  his  side, 
Close,  as  when  the  storm-bird  weathers 

Ocean's  hurrying  tide- 
Now  his  nodding  beak  is  steady, 

Wide  his  burning  eye— - 
Now  his  opening  wings  are  ready, 

And  his  aim — how  high! 


GENIUS    WAKING.  23 

Now  he  curves  his  neck,  and  proudly — 

Now  is  stretched  for  flight — 
Hark!  his  wings — they  thunder  loudly, 

And  their  flash — how  bright! 
Onward — onward,  over  mountain, 

Through  the  rack  and  storm, 
Now  like  sunset  over  fountain, 

Flits  his  glancing  form. 

Glorious  bird !  thy  dream  has  left  thee, 

Thou  hast  reached  thy  heaven- 
Lingering  slumber  hath  not  reft  theo 

Of  the  glory  given— 
With  a  bold,  a  fearless  pinion, 

On  thy  starry  road, 
None,  to  fame'*  supremo  dominion, 

Mightier  ever  trodo. 


TO  THE  EAGLE. 


BIRD  of  the  broad  and  sweeping  wing! 

Thy  home  is  high  in  heaven, 
V/here  wide  the  storms  their  banners  fling, 

And  the  tempest  clouds  are  driven. 
Thy  throne  is  on  the  mountain  top ; 

Thy  fields  the  boundless  air ; 
And  hoary  peaks,  that  proudly  prop 

The  skies,  thy  dwellings  are. 

Thou  sittest,  like  a  thing  of  light, 
Amid  the  noontide  blaze  ; 

The  midway  sun  is  clear  and  bright- 
It  cannot  dim  thy  gaze. 

Thy  pinions,  to  the  rushing  blast 
O'er  the  bursting  billow  spread, 

Where  the  vessel  plunges,  hurry  past, 
Like  an  anijel  of  the  dead. 


TO    THE    EAGLE.  25 

Thou  an  perched  aloft  on  the  beetling  crag, 

And  the  waves  are  white  below, 
And  on,  with  a  haste  that  cannot  lag, 

They  rush  in  an  endless  flow. 
Again  thou  hast  plumed  thy  wing  for  flight 

To  lands  beyond  the  sea, 
And  away,  like  a  spirit  wreathed  in  light, 

Thou  hurriest  wild  and  free. 

Thou  hurriest  over  the  myriad  waves, 

And  thou  leavest  them  all  behind  ; 
Thou  sweepest  that  place  of  unknown  graves, 

Fleet  as  the  tempest  wind. 
When  the  night-storm  gathers  dim  and  dark, 

With  a  shrill  and  a  boding  scream, 
Thou  rushest  by  the  foundering  bark, 

Quick  as  a  passing  dream. 

Lord  of  the  boundless  realm  of  air ! 

In  thy  imperial  name 
The  hearts  of  the  bold  and  ardent  dare 

The  dangerous  path  of  fame. 
Beneath  the  shade  of  thy  golden  wings, 

The  Roman  legions  bore, 
From  the  river, of  Egypt's  cloudy  springs, 

Their  pride,  to  the  polar  shore. 
3* 


26  TO    THE    EAGLE. 

For  thee  they  fought,  for  thee  they  fell, 

And  their  oath  was  on  thee  laid : 
To  thee  the  clarions  raised  their  swell, 

And  the  dying  warrior  prayed. 
Thou  wert,  through  an  age  of  death  and  fears, 

The  image  of  pride  and  power, 
Till  the  gathered  rage  of  a  thousand  years 

Burst  forth  in  one  awful  hour. 

And  then,  a  deluge  of  wrath  it  came, 

And  the  nations  shook  with  dread ; 
And  it  swept  the  earth,  till  its  fields  were  flame, 

And  piled  with  the  mingled  dead. 
Kings  were  rolled  in  the  wasteful  llood, 

With  the  low  and  crouching  slave  ; 
And  together  lay,  in  a  shroud  of  blood, 

The  coward  and  the  brave. 

And  where  was  then  thy  fearless  flight  ? 

"  O'er  the  dark  mysterious  sea, 
To  the  lands  that  caught  the  setting  light, 

The  cradle  of  liberty. 
There,  on  the  silent  and  lonely  shore, 

For  ages  I  watched  alone, 
And  the  world,  ia  its  darkness,  asked  no  more, 

Where  the  glonous  b''rd  had  flown. 


TO    THE    EAGLE.  27 

But  there  came  a  bold  and  hardy  few, 

And  they  breasted  the  unknown  wave ; 
I  caught  afar  the  wandering  crew, 

And  I  knew  they  were  high  and  brave. 
I  wheeled  around  the  welcome  bark, 

As  it  sought  the  desolate  shore, 
And  up  to  heaven,  like  a  joyous  lark, 

My  quivering  pinions  bore. 

And  now  that  bold  and  hardy  few 

Are  a  nation  wide  and  strong, 
And  danger  and  doubt  I  have  led  them  through, 

And  they  worship  me  in  song ; 
And  over  their  bright  and  glancing  arms, 

On  field  and  lake  and  sea, 
With  an  eye  that  fires,  and  a  spell  that  charms, 

I  guide  them  to  victory." 


SENECA  LAKE. 


ONE  evening  in  the  pleasant  month  of  May, 
On  a  green  hillock  swelling  from  the  shore 
Above  thy  emerald  wave,  when  the  clear  west 
Was  all  one  sheet  of  light,  I  sat  mo  down, 
Wearied,  yet  happy.     1  had  wandered  long, 
That  bright  fair  day ;  and  all  the  way,  my  path 
Was  tended  by  a  warm  and  soothing  air, 
That  breathed  like  bliss  ;  and  round  me  all  the  woods 
Opened  their  yellow  buds,  and  every  cottage 
Was  bowered  in  blossoms,  for  the  orchard  trees 
Were  all  in  flower.     I  came,  at  close  of  day, 
Down  to  thy  brink,  and  it  was  pleasure  there 
To  bathe  my  dripping  forehead  in  thy  cool 
Transparent  waters.     I  refreshed  me  long 
With  the  bright  sparkling   stream,  and   from   the 

pebbles, 

That  bedded  all  thy  margin,  singled  out 
Rare  casts  of  unknown  shells,  from  ofT  thy  cliffs 


SEXECA    LAKE.  29 

* 

Broken  by  wintry  surges.     Thou  wert  calm, 
Even  as  an  infant  calm,  that  gentle  evening; 
And  one  could  hardly  dream  thou  Mst  ever  mot 
And  wrestled  with  the  storm.     A  breath  of  air, 
Felt  only  in  its  coolness,  from  the  west 
Stole  over  thee,  and  stirred  thy  golden  mirror 
Into  long  waves,  that  only  showed  themselves 
In  ripples  on  thy  shore — far  distant  ripples, 
Breaking  the  silence  with  their  quiet  kisses, 
And  softly  murmuring  peace.     Up  the  green  hillock 
I  mounted  languidly,  and  at  the  summit, 
On  the  new  grass  reposed,  and  saw  that  evening 
Fade  sweetly  over  thce. 

Far  to  the  south 

Thy  slumbering  waters  floated,  one  long  sheet 
Of  burnished  gold — between  thy  nearer  shores 
Softly  embraced,  and  melting  distantly 
Into  a  yellow  haze,  embosomed  low 
»Miil  shadowy  hills  and  misty  mountains,  all 
Covered  with  showery  light,  as  with  a  veil 
Of  airy  gauze.     Beautiful  were  thy  shores, 
And  manyfold  their  outlines,  here  up-swelling 
In  bossy  green — there  hung  in  slaty  clifTs, 
Black  as  if  hewn  from  jet,  and  over-topped 
With  the  dark  cedar's  tufts,  or  new  leaved  birch, 
Bright  as  the  wave  below.     How  glassy  clear 
The  far  expanse.     Beneath  it  all  the  sky 


30  SENECA    LAKE. 

Swelled  downward,  and  its  fleecy  clouds  were  gay 
Wnh  all  their  rainbow  fringes,  and  the  trees, 
And  cliffs,  and  grassy  knolls,  were  all  repeated 
Along  the  uncertain  shores — so  clearly  seen 
Beneath  the  invisible  transparency, 
That  land  and  water  mingled,  and  the  one 
Seemed  melting  in  the  other.     O  !  how  soft 
Yon  mountain's  heavenly  blue,  and  all  o'erlaid 
With  a  pale  tint  of  roses.     Deep  between 
The  ever-narrowing  lake,  just  faintly  marked 
By  its  reflected  light,  and  farther  on 
Buried  in  vapory  foam,  as  if  a  surf 
Heaved  on  its  utmost  shore.      How  deep  the  si 
lence — 

Only  the  rustling  boughs,  the  broken  ripple, 
The  cricket,  and  the  tree-frog,  with  the  tinkle 
Of  bells  in  fold  and  pasture,  or  a  voice 
Heard  from  a  distant  farm,  or  hollow  bay 
Of  home-returning  hound — a  virgin  land 
Just  rescued  from  the  wilderness,  still  showing 
Wrecks  of  the  giant  forest,  yet  all  bright 
With  a  luxuriant  culture,  springing  wheat, 
And  meadows  richly  green — the  blessed  gift 
Of  liberty  and  law.     I  gazed  upon  them, 
And  on  the  unchanging  lake,  and  felt  awliile 
Unutterable  joy — I  loved  my  land 
With  more  than  filial  love — it  was  a  joy, 
That  only  spake  in  tears. 


SENECA   LAKE.  31 

With  early  dawn 

I  woke,  and  found  the  lake  was  up  before  me, 
For  a  fresli  stirring  breeze  came  from  the  south, 
And  all   its  deep  green  waves  were   tossed  and 

mingled 

Into  a  war  of  foam.     The  new  risen  sun 
Shone  on  them,  as  if  they  were  worlds  of  stars. 
Or  gems,  or  crystals,  or  some  other  thing 
Spam'  and  flashing  bright.    A  gentle  murmur, 
A  roar  scarce  uttered,  like  a  voice  of  mirth 
Amid  the  dancing  waters,  Mended  well 
With  the  ^Eolian  whispering  of  boughs 
In  a  wide  grove  of  pines.     The  fields  and  woods 
Were  sparkling  all  with  dew,  and  curling  smoke 
Rose  from  the  cottage  fires — the  robin,  too, 
And  the  brown  thrush,  and  other  birds  concealed 
Amid  the  half-blown  thickets,  joyously 
Poured  out  their  morning  songs,  and  thus  attended, 
I  wandered  by  the  shore.     O  !  it  was  pleasant, 
To  feel  the  dashing  of  the  dewy  spray 
Rain  on  my  forehead,  and  to  look  between 
Long  crests  of  foam,  into  an  unknown  depth 
Of  deepest  green,  and  then  to  see  that  green 
Soft  changing  into  snow.     Over  this  waste 
Of  rolling  surges,  on  a  lofty  bank, 
With  a  broad  surf  beneath  it,  brightly  shone 
White  roofs,  and  spires,  and  gilded  vanes,  and  win 
dows, 


32  SEXECA   LAKE. 

Each  like  a  flame — thy  peaceful  tenements, 

Geneva,  aptly  named ;  for  not  the  walls 

By  the  blue  arrowy  Rhone,  nor  Lemau's  lake, 

With  all  its  vineyard  shores  and  mouldering  castles, 

Nor  even  its  shaggy  mountains,  nor  above 

Its  world  of  Alpine  snows — these  are  not  more 

Than  thou,  bright  Seneca,  whether  at  peace, 

As  I  at  evening  met  thee,  or  this  morning, 

Tossed  into  foam.    Thou  too  shalt  have  thy  fame — 

Genius  shall  make  thy  hills  his  home,  and  here 

Shall  build  his  airy  visions — bards  shall  come, 

And  fondly  sing  thec — pilgrims  too  shall  haunt 

Thy  sacred  waters,  and  in  after  ages, 

O !  may  some  votary  sit  on  the  hillock, 

At  evening,  bv  thv  shore. 


LAYS  OF  THE  SEASONS. 


SPRING. 

COME  to  my  festival !    Come  to  my  festival ! 

This  is  the  first  of  clay  of  May — 
The  sun  is  rejoicing  alone  in  heaven ; 

The  clouds  have  all  hurried  away. 
Down  in  the  meadow  the  blossoms  are  waking, 
Light  on  their  twigs  the  young  leaves  are  shaking ; 
Round  the  warm  knolls  the  lambs  are  a-leaping, 
The  colt  from  his  fold  o'er  the  pasture  is  sweeping; 
And  on  the  bright  lake  the  little  waves  break. 

For  there  the  cool  west  is  at  play. 
Como  to  my  festival !  Come  to  my  festival ! 

This  is  the  first  day  of  May. 
4 


34  LAVS  or  T it  n  s E A s o \ s . 

Conic  to  my  festival !  Come  to  my  festival ! 

Lose  not  so  happy  a  <lay — 
The  maidens  are  pranking  their  locks  with  flowers. 

And  donning  their  proudest  array. 
Over  the  mountain  the  south  wind  is  rolling, 

And  tossing  its  forest  in  hillows ; 
Through  orchard  and  vineyard  anil  garden  strolling, 

And  whispering  among  the  screen  willows. 
Then  mount  the  plumed  hoitnet,  with  true-love  knots 
on  it, 

Haste  hither! — O!  how  can  ye  stay? — 
Come  to  my  festival !  Come  to  my  festival  ! 

This  is  the  firs.t  day  of  Mav. 


SUMMER. 

GOLDEN  is  the  harvest  field, 

Bright  the  sky  above, 
And  its  orl)  a  Inirning  shield 

On  the  arm  of  Jove  ; 
Hot  the  wearied  reaper  toils 

Till  the  day  is  done, 
And  the  flashing  ocean  boils 

Round  the  setting  sun. 
O  !  some  cool,  some  midnight  cave 

By  the  rushing  river, 
There  my  beating  pulse  to  lave, 

Sleep  and  dream  forever. 


LAYS    OF    THE    SEASON'S.  35 

All  arc  now  in  serious  strife, 

Gathering  in  their  grain  ; 
'Tis  their  being,  hope  and  life — 

Hark  !  the  hurrying  wain — 
No  !  the  distant  thunder  peal, 

Rolling  from  the  hills — 
See  the  eddying  tempest  wheel ! 

How  it  swells  ami  stills! 
High  ahove  its  hrazen  van 

Juts — hehiml  it  roars 
Wind,  hail,  thunder — what  is  man, 

When  the  deluge  jwjurs  ! 


AUTUMN. 

MY  horn  is  overflowing, 

My  fruits  all  red, 
And  not  a  wind  is  blowing, 

But  sweets  have  fed. 
The  vineyard  slope  is  gushing 

With  purple  wine, 
And  amher  streams  are  rushing 

From  even-  vine. 
Near  hill  to  far  blue  mountain, 

Low  vale  and  plain, 
Wide  lake  and  rock-built  fountain, 

My  song  of  joy  repeat  again. 


36  LAY  8    OF    THE    SEASON  8. 

Young  girls  beside  their  lovers 

Now  pluck  the  vine — 
fts  yellow  foliage  covers 

Love's  softest  twine. 
With  loaded  baskets  reeling 

They  home  return  ; 
And  when  the  dance  is  wheeling, 

Black  eyes — they  burn, 
lo,  lo  trhnnphe  ! 

The  pa'uns  swell ; 
And  now  their  nectar  flowing, 

That  gush  of  joy,  O  !  who  can  tell. 


WINTER. 

BELOW  me  rings  the  lake, 

The  stars  above  me  bum, 
Away  the  skaters  break, 

And  glide  and  wheel  and  turn  ; 
Keen  blows  the  cutting  north, 

Against  the  wind  they  drive, 
And  as  they  hurry  forth, 

The  air  is  all  alive. 
Shout  and  carol,  jest  and  boast, 

So  they  sound  along ; 
Send  thy  keenest  arrows,  Frost ! 

We  will  give  thec  song. 


LAVS    OF    THE    SEASONS.  37 

The  cast  is  growing  bright, 

The  crystal  forest  flashes, 
And  in  the  dawning  light, 

Like  gold  the  cascade  dashes. 
The  rainbow  spans  the  sky, 

Hut  all  her  proudest  show, 
Her  deepest  tinctures  die 

Uelbre  the  pomp  below. 
Rock  and  river,  tree  and  fountain, 

(ilittor  thick  with  gems  ; 
Rolling  hill  and  craggy  mountain 

Glow  like  diadems. 


THE  LIGHT  GUITAR. 


THE  light  guitar,  the  light  guitar — 
1  hoar  its  tinkling  sound  afar, 
Where  underneath  the  evening  star 

The  dance  is  wheeling; 
And  many  a  laugh,  and  many  a  shout 
The  busy  echoes  toss  about, 
Till  joyous  with  the  merry  rout 

The  hills  are  pealing. 

The  light  guitar — I  know  it  well ; 
1  heard  it  first  when  evening  fell 
Around  the  vine-embowered  well 

]Jv  Rhone's  broad  river. 
Joy  to  *hy  valleys,  gay  Provence! 
Thou  sunny  paradise  of  France  ; 
Carols  at  eve,  and  song  and  dance 

Are  thine  forever. 


THE    LIGHT    GUITAR. 

The  light  guitar — it  semis  me  where 

A  living  glory  fills  the  air, 

And  all  of  guy  ami  bright  ami  fair 

Is  full  to  flowing. 
Uelow  me  sleeps  the  purple  sea, 
A  hove  me  clouds  of  amhor  floe, 
And  gold  on  every  tower  and  tree 

And  spire  is  glowing. 

The  light  guitar — iis  warning  sound 
Maiden  and  youth  are  thronging  round, 
With  song  and  shout,  and  leap  and  bound— 

No  dream  of  sorrow. 
Away  with  grief,  away  with  can*! 
Glad  thoughts  alone  are  welcome  there; 
They  eare  not,  if  or  dark  or  fair 

May  rise  the  morrow. 

Then  glory  to  the  light  guitar — 
Its  holiest  time  the  evening  star, 
When  liquid  voices  echo  far 

Uy  rock  and  river. 

O !  might  such  heavenly  nights  he  mine, 
Where  overhead  the  rambling  vine 
Lets  quivering  through  the  bright  moonshine, 

Bv  Khone  forever. 


THE  VINTAGE  DANCE, 


COME,  the  dance,  the  dance — 

Night  is  nigh  us  : 
How  the  shades  advance  ! 

Soon  joy  will  lly  us  : 
Be  happy  while  we  may ; 
Dull  cafes,  away,  away ! 
Be  only  song  and  play, 

As  time  speeds  by  us. 

Our  vintage  all  is  in ; 

Our  vats  overflowing — 
Now  wake  the  merry  din, 

Eyes,  cheeks,  all  glowing, 
We  owe  the  generous  vine 
A  pledge  of  best  old  wine, 
And  clustering  hy's  twine, 

And  llowers  new  blowing. 


THE    VINTAGE    DAN'CE.  41 

Pluck,  pluck  the  autumn  flowers, 

And  deftly  twine  them — 
Maidens,  in  lonely  hours, 

May  then  divine  them  : 
One  with  its  eye  of  blue 
Shall  tell  the  heart  is  true  ; 
Another  blushing  new 

Softly  incline  them. 

Then  wheel  the  dance,  the  dance, 

Around  the  fountain — 
The  satyrs  hear  and  prance 

On  ivied  mountain  ; 
The  fauns  come  stealing  nigh 
And  roll  the  roguish  eye. 

Quick  mischief  in  it — 
Back  to  your  craggy  wood ! 
The  maiden's  heart  is  good  ; 

Ye  cannot  win  it. 


SONG. 


Lo.vo  years  have  seen  mo  roaming 

A  sail  and  weary  way. 
Like  traveller  tired  at  gloaming, 

A  sultry  sununcr's  day; 
No  lamp  of  love  before  me, 

No  twinkling  parlour  lire, 
Hut  clouds  and  darkness  o'er  me, 

My  ojily  friend  my  lyre. 
A  welcome  shed  now  greets  me, 

Though  low  its  portal  he, 
And  ready  kindness  meets  me, 

And  peace  that  will  not  flee  : 
So  here  my  heart  reposes. 

And  finds  at  last  its  home  ; 
Its  day  of  wandering  closes  ; 

It  rests,  no  more  to  roam. 


soxt;. 


So  when,  by  tempest  battered, 

Tin*  seamrm,  bent  ashore, 
Sails  torn  ami  colours  tattered, 

Still  plough*  the  ocean's  roar, 
If  but  a  watch-light  twinkle 

With  hospitable  glow, 
Joy-tears  his  hard  chocks  sprinkle, 

And  hope's  bright  fountains  flow 
His  home  is  all  before  him, 

The  dwelling  of  his  sires  ; 
His  own  blue  skv  is  o'er  him, 

And  near  his  altar-fires: 
Awhile  his  burdened  feelings 

Like  silent  waters  run, 
Then  burst  in  echoed  pcalings, 

"Mv  land  —  mv  laud  is  won!** 


SONG. 


STRIKE,  strike  the  note  of  sorrow, 

That  late  so  moved  me— 
My  sinking  heart  would  l>orrow, 
From  sounds  so  passing  sweet, 
Fond  moments  once  so  fleet 

Beside  the  youth  who  loved  me. 

O!  set  the  music  flowing— 
My  soul  forever 

Could  dwell  on  words  so  glowing, 

On  sounds  so  soft  and  clear, 

To  all  my  heart  so  dear, 
Thev  can  be  silent  never. 


SO.VG. 


Give  mo  the  lute — the  lute, 
For  I  would  riii«j  it — 

O !  breathe  th:it  Spartan  flute, 
'Ami  wake  my  lan«ri»:.i  soul, 

Till  loosed  from  earth's  control, 
Heaven's  lire  shall  wing  it. 

No  !  touch  the  chord  of  feeling, 

And  lightly  wake  it  ! 
And  as  I  he:»r,  come  stealing 
From  out  my  Ucedinjr  heart 
Tears,  such  as  woes  impart — 

Be  still,  or  else  ve  break  it. 


TO  A  BUTTERFLY. 


THOU,  who  in  the  early  spring 
Iloverest  on  filmy  win**, 
Visiting  the  bright-eyed  Hewers, 
Fluttering  in  loaded  bowers, 
Settling  on  the  reddening  rose, 
Reddening  ere  it  fully  Mows, 

AVhen  i's  crisp  and  folded  leaves 
Just  unroll  their  dewy  tips, 
Soft  as  infant  beauty's  lips, 

Or  any  thing  that  love  believes — 
Little  wanderer  after  pleasure, 
\\  here  is  that  enchanted  treasure, 
All  that  live  are  seeking  for  ? 
Is  it  in  the  blossom,  or 

Where  we  seek  it,  in  the  roses 
Of  a  maiden's  cheek,  or  rather 
In  the  many  lights  that  gather 

When  licr  Kiniiiiig  lip  uncloses  ? 


TO    A    BUTTERFLY.  47 

Wouldst  thou  rather  kiss  a  flower, 
When  'tis  dropping  with  a  shower, 
Or  with  trembling,  quivering  wing 
Rest  thee  on  :t  dearer  thing, 
On  a  lip  that  has  no  stain, 
On  a  hrow  that  feels  no  pain, 
In  the  (learnings  of  an  eye, 
Where  a  world  of  visions  lie, 
Such  as  to  the  hlest  are  given, 
All  of  heaven — all  of  heaven  ? 
Ifthon  lovest  the  Mossom,  I 
Love  the  cheek,  the  lip  and  eye. 


THE  VOICE  OF  NATURE. 


A  VOICE  is  heard  in  the  winds*  and  waves, 

In  tlic  Boiiiul  of  the  ever  rolling  sea; 
Tin  whispered  amid  the  gloom  of  graves, 

And  it  speaks  from  tho  hill-top  loud  and  free : 
Tis  murmuring  iii  ever)'  breath  of  air, 

And  it  pauses  not  \\ln-n  the  leaves  are  still; 
Where  the  waters  are  falling,  it  .prattles  there, 

And  it  whistles  along  the  heathery  hill. 

Up  on  the  brown  amlliritnry  steep, 

When  lite  bramble  stirs  with  the  irestling  bird- 
Down  in  the  green  and  glassy  deep, 

When  the  coral  rustles,  that  voice  is  heard  : 
Far  it  is  borne  on  the  summer  breeze, 

O'er  sunny  meadow  and  flowery  plain ; 
Then  it  steals  to  the  glancing  trees, 

And  is  lost  in  their  shadowy  gloom  again. 


THE    VOICE    OF    NATURE.  19 

Mark  !  its  wandering  echoes  wake — 

They  are  now  in  the  heart  of  the  rifted  rock; 
Now  they  lie  on  the  slumbering  lake ; 

Now  are  at  )>Iay  with  the  Unniding  Hock. 
Not  a  withering  leaf  hy  the  wind  is  .stirred, 

Not  a  murmur  moves  through  the  bending  com, 
13nt  far  that  summoning  voice  is  heard, 

Like  the  loud,  clear  notes  of  the  winding  horn. 

O !  'tis  a  voice  that  comes  from  heaven, 

Home  like  a  spirit  in  light  along, 
Now  like  the  rush  of  a  tempest,  driven, 

Murmuring  now  in  the  charm  of  song. 
Hear  ye  the  voice  ? — then  come  away 

Far  from  the  haunts  of  ruder  men- 
Come,  where  the  leaves  anil  fountains  play-— 

Von  may  love  and  be  happy  then. 


SONG. 


YE  come  to  me,  with  eyes  of  light, 

Fair  creatures  of  my  dreams  ! 
Ye  move  around  me,  ealin  and  bright, 

Like  sunset  over  streams, 
When  the  last  llush  of  dying  day 

In  liquid  lustre  glows, 
Then  passes  into  night  away, 

Like  rain-drops  from  a  rose. 

Fair  creatures !  soft  your  voices  are — 

1  hear  their  tender  tone. 
And  all  the  twilight  echoes  bear 

Their  melody  alone. 
It  tills  the  rooks,  the  woods,  the  plain, 

With  an  all-pervading  thrill ; 
And  listening  to  the  invisible  strain, 

The  breathless  air  is  still. 


80X0.  51 


AH  innocent  your  hoauty  Mow; 

'Tis  lirijrlit  ami  purely  (air  : 
The  rose,  tin*  youtiir  ami  virgin  rose. 

Minis  forth  in  sweetness  there  ; 
Ami  there  are  lijjht  am!  lan^lini;;  eves, 

That  n«*vi>r  have  \vi»pl  in  pain — 
Hope  horkons  yon  on,  as  away  slio  flios, 

Ami  lovt%  that  must  all  In-  vain. 

O!  stay,  fair  rroatiirrs — I  !>i«l  you  stay! 

With  you  my  <ln*ams  an-  h«'av<-n. 
Too  soon  tho  vision  must  ladr  away; 

\i»t  lorrvrr  tliost-  joys  \vi«n»  jjivrn. 
HiMii'l  ovrr  m«*  now  that  winniiiij  smilo, 

That  linijrrinu  look  of  lij^lit  ! 
Ye  f.iuV — (>!   paiisi>  ami  charm  awhile, 

Kre  ve  vanish  awav  in  niifht. 


SONG. 


O !  SING  to  me  one  song  of  thine, 

One  song  before  we  part, 
That  I  may  bear  away  with  me 

Its  music  in  my  heart. 
Let  it  be  a  gentle  one, 

A  song  <>'  early  joy. 
Such  as  a  fair-haired  maiden  sings 

To  win  her  much  loved  boy. 

O  !  sing  to  me  the  song  I  heard, 

The  other  day.  at  noon, 
When  it  came  to  me  like  a  warbling  bird, 

And  ceased  as  short  and  soon. 
Bashfully  that  song  was  still, 

For  I  started  from  out  the  trees  ; 
So  the  bird  is  hush,  when  the  bramble  bush 

Stirs  with  the  passing  breeze. 


soxo.  53 

Turn  not  so  tearfully  away — 

I  ratiiint.  hear  to  p'*rt, 
Witli  any  thing  hut  hope  anil  jov 

In  the  swelling  of  my  heart. 
Look  up  to  me  with  laughing  eyes— 

We  shall  meet  again  ere  long; 
AIM!  thfii  the  gnM'ting  I  shall  h:ive, 

Will  he  thy  gi-iith-  s<»ng. 

So  sifig  to  rw  that  song  of  joy  f 

'I'hat  song  of  summer  howers, 
Murmuring  like  tlie  soft  warm  hreath 

Of  a  south  wind  over  (lowers. 
I  will  kiss  thee  as  thou  warhlest  on, 

My  token  as  I  part, 
And  so  will  hear  away  with  mo 

Thv  music  in  mv  heart. 


SAPPHO. 


SHI:  stands  i?i  act  to  fall — her  garland  torn, 
Its  withered  rose-loaves  round  the  rock  are  blow 
ing  ; 
Loose  to  the  winds  her  locks  dishevelled  flowing 

Tell  of  the  many  sorrows  she  has  borne. 

Her  eye,  up-turned  to  heaven,  has  lost  its  fire — 
One  hand  is  pressed  to  feel  her  bosom's  beating, 
And  mark  her  lingering  pulses  back  retreating— 
The  other  wanders  o'er  her  silent  lyre. 

Clear  rolls  the  midway  sun — she  knows  it  not ; 
Vainly  the  winds  waft  by  the  flower's  perfume  ; 
To  her  the  sky  is  hung  in  deepest  gloom — 

She  only  feels  the  noon-beam  burning  hot. 


8  A  I»  P  I!  O  .  55 

What  to  the  broken  heart  the  dancing  waves, 
The  air  all  kindling — what  a  sounding  name  ? 
O  '   what  a  mockery*  to  dream  of  fame — 

It  only  hires  us  on  to  make  us  slaves. 

And  Love — O!   what  art  thou  with  nil  thy  light  ? 
IneO'ahle  -joy  is  round  th»-e,  till  we  know, 

Thou  art  but  as  a  vision  of  the  nisjlit — 
Ami  then  the  bursting  heart,  bow  deep  its  woe. 

"  They  tell  me  1  shall  live — my  name  shall  rise, 
When  nature  falls — O!  blest  illusion,  slav — ** 
A  moment  hopes  and  joys  around  her  plav  ; 

Then  darkness  bides  her — faint  she  sinks  and 
dies. 


SONNETS. 


O!  THERE  are  moments,  when  the  dreaming  soul 
Forgets  this  earth,  and  wanders  far  away 
Into  some  region  of  eternal  day, 

Where  the  bright  waves  in  calm  and  sunshine  roll. 

Thither  it  wanders,  arid  lias  reached  its  goal — 
The  good,  the  great,  the  beautiful  are  there, 
And  wreaths  of  victory  crown  their  flowing  hair, 
And  as  they  move,  such  music  fills  the  air, 

As  ne'er  from  fabled  bower  or  cavern  stole. 

Soft  to  the  heart  it  winds,  and  hushes  deep 

Its  cares  and  sorrows.     Thought  then,  fancy-free, 
Flies  on  from  bliss  to  bliss,  till  finding  thee 
It  pauses,  as  the  musk-rose  charms  the  bee, 

Tranced,  as  in  happy  dream  of  magic  sleep. 


SONNETS.  57 


II. 


O !  EVENINO,  I  have  loved  thee  with  a  joy 
Tender  and  pure,  and  thou  hast  ever  been 

A  soother  of  my  sorrows.     When  a  boy, 
I  wandered  often  to  a  lom»ly  glen, 
And  fur  from  all  the  stir  and  noise  of  men, 

Held  fond  communion  with  unearthly  things, 
Such  as  come  gathering  brightly  round  us,  when 

Imagination  soars  and  shakes  her  wings. 

Yes,  in  that  secret  valley,  doubly  dear 

For  all  its  natural  beauty,  and  the  hush 
That  ever  brooded  o'er  it,  I  would  lay 

My  thoughts  in  deepest  calm,  and  if  a  bush 
Hustled,  or  small  bird  shook  the  beechen  spray. 
There  seemed  a  minisfring  angel  whispering  near. 


III. 

O!  THERE  are  tears  of  joy,  and  they  are  fed 

From  the  heart's  secret  fountain,   where    they 

well 

Like  springs  in  some  mysterious  cavern's  bed, 
Made  holy  by  the  sybil's  murmuring  spell. 
6 


58  8  O  N  X  E  T  8  . 

Forth  from  the  darkling  cave  they  calmly  flow, 
Crystalline  pure,  to  heaven's  rejoicing  light, 
And  over  sifted  sands  and  pebbles  bright, 

Down  through  the  sacred  grove  of  laurels  go. 

So  when  my  thoughts,  long  wearied  by  the  rush 
Of  life's  too  busy  cares,  would  pause  and  keep 
Awhile-  a  sabbath's  stillness,  and  would  lay 
Each  passionate  longing,  then  I  can  but  weep 
Tears,  happy  tears,  in  many  a  sudden  gush, 
And  with  them  all  mv  sorrows  melt  awav. 


IV. 

O!  WOULD  that  dreams  were  not  the  things  they 

are, 

Merc  unsubstantial  pageants,  born  and  dying 
With  the  light  sleep  that  makes  them,  coming,  Hy 
ing, 
Like  evening  clouds,  how  beautiful  and  fair. 

O !  they  are  thinner  than  the  empty  air, 

And    yet   how   blessed,    when    they   bend  and 

smile — 
How  the  heart  (lows  away  in  rapture,  while, 

Dear  fond  illusions,  they  are  lingering  there. 


SONNETS.  59 

They  have  a  touch  and  voice. — That  bosom,  swell 
ing 

With  a  young  world  of  joys,  how  softly  heaves : 
It  lifts  its  gauzy  veil,  like  feathery  leaves 

Wav<-d  lightly  over  Yemen's  palmy  dwelling ; 
A  higher  Miss  than  even  hope  believes, 

To  the  fixed  eye  of  slumbering  fondness  telling. 


I  V. 

SHADOWS  of  hoary  forests,  solemn  haunts 
Of  wild  unearthly  glooms — O  !   I  would  be 
A  dweller  in  your  darkness,  and  to  me 

There  I  would  find  all  that  the  spirit  pants 

To  reach  of  boundless  thoughts. — Ye  are  the  fane 

To  mightiest  musings  sacred — to  the  swoep 

Of  visions  dim  but  high,  emotions  deep, 

Such  as  in  breathless  rest  till  then  had  lain. 

Then  go  they  forth,  and  from  th«  flowery  vale 
Of  life's  too  joyous  spring,  among  the  storms 
Launch  their  unfettered  wings,  till  giant  forms, 

Born  of  the  tempest,  round  them  fold  a  veil 
Of  awe  and  lifting  wonder. — Such  the  flight 
Of  the  waked  spirit,  when  the  world  is  night. 


60  SONNETS. 


VI. 


MY  soul  goes  often  wandering  to  your  gl 

And  rests  beneath  your  shadow — often  dwells 
My  spirit  in  your  silence — often  tells 

Over  your  opening  glades  their  mingled  blooms. 

How,  like  a  vein  of  silver,  steals  along 

The  mountain  brook  'mid  ferns  and  brakes  and 

flowers; 
And  how,  when  all  is  still  in  calmer  hours, 

Comes  floating  o'er  the  hills  some  artless  song. 

Low  lies  yon  narrow  vale,  and  there  it  strays, 
The  truant  stream,  to  either  wooded  steep, 

As  if  to  kiss  its  mossy  foot,  and  plays 
Now  over  pebbly  shallows,  and  now  deep 

Rests  in  a  sheeted  pool,  while  opening  through 

The  wide  plain  melts  in  soft  and  shadowy  blue. 


VII. 

AM  I  not  all  alone  ? — The  world  is  still 

In  passionless  slumber — not  a  tree  but  feels 
The  far  pervading  hush,  and  softer  steals 

The  misty  river  by. — Yon  broad  bare  hill 


SOX  NETS.  61 

Looks  coldly  up  to  heaven,  and  all  the  stars 
Seem  eyt'S  deep  fixed  in  silence,  as  if  bound 
IJy  some  unearthly  spell — no  other  sound 

Rut  the  owl's  unfrequent  moan.— Their  airy  cars 
The  winds  have  stationed  on  the  mountain  praks. 
Am  I  not  all  alone  ? — A  spirit  speaks 

From  the  abyss  of  ni^lit,  "not  all  alone — 
Nature  is  round  tliee  with  her  banded  |>owerst 
And  ancient  genius  haunts  thee  in  these  hours — 

.Mind  and  its  kingdom  now  an;  all  thv  own." 


via 

DEEP  sunk  in  thought,  he  sat  beside  the  river — 
Its  wave  in  liquid  lapses  glided  by, 
Nor  watched,  in  crystal  depth,  his  vacant  eye 

The  willow's  high  o'er-arching  foliage  quiver. 

From  dream  to  shadowy  dream  returning  ever, 
He  sat,  like  statue,  on  the  grassy  verge  ; 
11  is  thoughts,  a  phantom  train,  in  airy  surge 

Streamed  visionary  onward,  pausing  never. 

As  autumn  wind,  in  mountain  forest  weaving 
Its  wondrous  tapestry  of  leaf  and  bower, 
Overmastering  the  night's  resplendent  flower, 

With  tints,  like  hues  of  heaven,  the  eye  deceiving- 
G* 


62  SONNETS. 

So.  lost  in  labyrinthine  maze,  lie  wove 

A  wreath  of  flowers  ;  the  golden  thread  was  love. 


IX. 


Whence  ?    Whither  ?    Where  ? — A  taper  point  of 
light, 

My  life  and  world — the  infinite  around  ; 

A  sea,  not  even  highest  thought  can  sound ; 
A  formless  void  ;  unchanging,  endless  night. 

In  vain  the  struggling  spirit  aims  its  flight 
To  the  empyrean,  seen  as  is  a  star, 
Sole  glimmering  through  the  hazv  nitrlit  afar — 

*  rt 

In  vain.it  beats  its  wings  with  daring  might. 

What  yonder  gleams? — What  heavenly  shapes  arise 
From  out  the  bodiless  waste  ? — Uchold  the  dawn, 
Sent  from  on  hi<rh ! — rncounted  ages  gone, 

Burst  full  and  glorious  on  my  wondering  eyes  : 
Sun-clear  the  world  around,  and  far  away 
A  boundless  future  sweeps  in  golden  day. 


THE  CONTRAST. 


To  his  gallant  horse  the  warrior  sprung — 

They  called,  but  ho  would  not  stay  ; 
.  And  the  hoof  of  his  hurrying  charger  rung, 

As  to  battlo  he  rushed  away. 
She  stood  aloft  on  the  warder's  tower, 

And  she  followed  him  over  iho  plain, 
And  she  watched  through  many  a  silent  hour, 

But  she  heard  not  his  tramp  again. 

They  came,  when  the  morning  was  cold  and  pale, 

With  a  warrior  on  his  bier, 
And  his  banner,  rent  like  a  tattered  sail, 

Showed  he  died  not  the  death  of  fear. 
Thev  brought  him  in  pride  and  sorrow  back 

To  the  home  he  hail  left  so  gay, 
When  he  gallantly  llew  on  glory's  track, 

And  to  battle  rushed  awav. 


BALLAD. 


u  \VIIITHER  away,  in  thy  swift-winged  bark 

Over  the  waters  blue  ?" 
*•  The  way  is  long,  and  the  night  is  dark, 
And  before  the  song  of  the  matin  lark 

My  voyage  must  be  through. 

On  Clutha's  rock  a  castle  tall 

Frowns  over  the  waters  blue. 
My  lord,  within  that  castle  tall, 
In  deadly  peril  holds  his  all ; 

And  my  life  to  my  lord  is  due. 

I  have  twenty  stout  and  stalwart  men, 

As  ever  tugged  at  yew. 
You  may  search  the  land,  nor  find  again 
Twenty  such  stout  and  stalwart  men, 

Nor  twenty  hearts  so  true. 


Jl  A  L  L  A  J>  .  05 

And  oven'  man,  by  his  trusty  side, 

Has  a  falchion  keen  and  new: 
And  .with  blades  so  keen  and  hearts  so  tried, 
Their  way  to  their  lord  they  would  soon  divide 

A  host  of  leaguers  through. 

And  hosts  of  leaguers  throng  around 

My  lord  and  his  vassals  few  ; 
And  where  shall  his  valiant  liege  he  found, 
Who  would  not  stand  his  inch  of  ground, 

To  his  lord  and  his  honour  true  ? 

Many  long  months  they  have  stood  at  bay. 

With  sword  and  spear  and  yew ; 
And  the  few  the  leaguers  could  not  slay, 
Famine  and  toil  have  thinned  away — 

But  firm  that  noble  few. 

To  lend  our  lives  to  a  lord  so  brave, 

We  skim  the  waters  blue  ; 
And  we  would  hurry  us  over  the  wave, 
That  noble  few  to  roach  and  save, 

Though  a  raging  whirlwind  blew. 

The  wave  curls  high,  and  its  top  is  white 
As  the  plume  of  the  wild  sea-mew ; 


C(>  »  A  1.  LAD. 

And  the  bark  cuts  swift  as  an  arrow's  flight. 
Ami  its  way  is  like  tbe  track  of  light. 
Where  the  falling  meteor  flow. 

Though  dark  the  night,  and  the  wind  blow  strong 

As  ovor  tempest  Mow, 
To  Clutha's  rock  we  scud  along, 
And  cheer  our  way  with  tale  and  song 

Of  the  fearless  heart  and  true. 

Then  away,  away,  in  my  swift-winged  hark, 

Over  the  waters  Mue — 
The  way  is  long,  and  the  night  is  dark, 
And  before  the  sonjj  of  the  matin  lark 

Mv  vovage  must  be  through." 


SONGS. 


O!    Gl'ADALAXARA, 

Thy  beautiful  river 
Is  rolling  on  ever 
Its  waters  so  elear. 

O !  Gundalaxara, 

Thy  evergreens,  bending 
Their  wide  boughs,  are  lending 

A  shadow,  how  dear. 

O !  Guadalaxara, 

Thy  current  is  /lowing, 
Like  gales  softly  blowing, 

Or  flutes  breathing  near. 

The  town  of  Pesara 

Stands  brightly  beside  thee, 
And  gay  galleys  ride  thee, 

O  !  Guadalaxara. 


G8  R  o  x  G  s . 


If. 

M  r  R  MURING  river, 
Falling  ever, 
And  silent  never, 

Thou  hurriest  by. 
Now  softly  flowing, 
And  brightly  slowing, 
And  clearly  showing, 

Thy  waters  lie. 

Through  meadows  bending, 
Sweet  flowers  arc  sending 
Their  breath,  and  lending 

Thy  wave  perfume. 
The  myrtle  covers 
Thy  banks,  and  lovers. 
As  evening  hovers, 

Are  in  its  gloom. 

And  lilies,  swelling 
\Yith  dew,  and  smelling 
Of  morn,  are  telling 

Their  leaves  below. 
Xo  fairest  flower, 
In  bush  or  bower, 
So  takes  the  shower, 

And  scents  it  so. 


SON'OS.  09 


Dark  eyes  are  flashing, 
And  fair  hands  dashing 
Thy  foam,  and  plashing 

The  bubbles  fly. 
So,  murmuring  river, 
Falling  ever, 
And  silent  never, 

Thou  hurricst  bv. 


III. 

Music  and  dances, 
Smiles  and  bright  glances, 
Love's  happy  chances, 

All  are  at  play. 
Youths  with  gay  sashes, 
Girls  with  calashes, 
Quick  as  light  flashes, 

Foot  it  away. 

Viols  are  tinkling, 
Light  feet  are  twinkling, 
Snowy  veils  crinkling, 
Round  as  they  go. 

7 


70  SONGS. 

Soft  voices  prattle?, 
Castanets  rattle, 
Love's  mimic  brittle 
Mingles  them  so. 

Now  the  fiance  closes — 
Baskets  of  roses, 
Woven   in  posies, 

Gaily  they  twine. 
Goblets  are   clashing, 
Amber  Ik'hts  Hashing, 
Young  lovers  dashing 

Beauty  in  wine. 

All  now  is  over — 
"White  mantles  hover, 
Each  with  a  lover, 

Back  to  the   town. 
None  of  them  misses 
Sweetest  of  blisses, 
Dewy  wet  kisses — 

That  is  love's  crown. 


CREEK  APPEAL  TO   AMERICA,  1827. 


ROUSK  ye  at  .a- nation's  call — 
Rouse,  and  rescue,  one  and  all— 
Help,  or  lilierty  shall  fall, 

Fall  in  blood  and  shame  ! 

Shame  to  him  who  coldly  draws 
Backward  from  the  nohlest  cause— 
Not  to  him  who  fights  and  fa's — 
His  a  glorious  name. 

Sons  of  more  than  mortal  sires, 
We  have  lit  again  their  fires, 
Or  to  l>e  our  funeral  pyres, 
Or  our  sun  of  fame. 

Hear  ye  not  the  widow's  cry? 
"  Help  us,  or  we  faint  and  die- 
See  !  the  murderous  foe  is  nigh— 
Hark,  the  wasting  (lame! 


72  GREEK    APPEAL    TO    AMERICA 

Whither  shall  we  fly  for  aid  ? 
Where  is  now  the  warrior's  blade  ? 
Low  the  mighty  heart  is  laid, 
Death  alone  could  tame. 

To  the  mountain,  to  the  cave, 
Let  us  go  and  weep  the  brave — 
Better  die  than  live  a  slave — 
Better  death  than  shame  !" 

No — forbid  it,  chosen  land ! 
Open  wide  thy  helping  hand — 
Pour  thy  corn  and  wine,  like  sand — 
What  is  wealth  to  fame! 

Quick,  before  the  flame  expire — 
Feed — O  !  feed  the  holy  lire — 
Feed,  and  it  shall  kindle  higher — 
Win  a  generous  name ! 


OUR  FLAG. 


LIFT,  lift  the  eagle  banner  high, 

Our  guide  to  fame — 
On  ocean's  breezes  bid  it  fly, 
Like  meteors  wafting  through  the  sky 

Their  pomp  of  flame, 
Till  wide  on  every  sea  unfurled, 
It  tell  to  an  admiring  world 

Our  name. 

O !  proudly  burns  its  beacon  light 

On  victory's  path — 

Thro'  freedom's  dawn,  thro*  danger's  night, 
Onward,  still  onward,  rolling  bright, 

It  swept  in  wrath — 
Still  lightning-like,  to  him  who  dares 
Confront  the  terror  of  our  stars, 

Its  scath. 

7* 


74  OUR    FLAG. 

Still  heavenward  mounts  the  generous  flame. 

And  never  tires — 
Does  Envy  dare  insult  our  name, 
Or  lurking  Falsehood  brand  with  shame 

Our  buried  sires  ? 
The  armed  Colossus  thunders  bv, 
Wide  wave  our  stripes — the  dastard  lie 

Expires. 


SPRING. 


Low  breathed  flic  western  wiml  at  close  of  day ; 
The  bloomy  shrubs  were  bent  with  heavy  show 
ers  ; 

The  clouds  had  hardlv  rolled  their  wreaths  away ; 
They  darkly  hung,    where    high    the    mountain 

towers ; 
Through  flowery  vale,  the  dashing  stream 

Leaped  spar  kingly,  in  many  a  fall  ; 
And  evening's  rosy  beam 
Tinted  the  forest  tall. 

The  loving  birds  were  emulous  in  song; 

The  cattle  lowed  ;  on  slope  of  sunny  hill 
Sported  the  lambs,  and  wildly  raced  along 
The  turf  that  bore  its  beaded  treasures  still ; 
And  as  they  swept,  a  shower  of  light 

Flew  round,  like  gems  that  deck  the  snow, 
When  morning  glances  bright 
On  hill  and  valley  flow. 


76  S  1'  R  I  N  G  . 

And  gleaming  o'er  a  woo<i-em!>owercd  lake, 
Floated  'mid  dreamy  ha/e  the  golden  ray  ; 
The  rippling  wave,  in  many  a  yellow  Hake, 
Curled  round  the  dewy  rock,  and  slid  away  : 
In  rustic  boat,  his  dipping  oars 

Attuned  to  song  the  peasant  boy— 
Gliding  by  happy  scores, 
lie  lull  the  seasons  joy. 

By  willowy  isle,  with  silvery  catkins  bowed, 

He  skimmed  the  sheeted  gold,  and  on  my  oar 
Echoed  his  song,  now  sweetly  low,  now  loud 
As  when  the  patriot  ode  is  swelling  near. 
From  rock  to  rock  the  music  rung; 

IJy  wooded  hill  it  died  along  : 
Light  was  the  heart  that  sung 
That  wild  and  woodland  song. 

"The  buds  are  now  unfolding, 

And  gaily  swings  the  vine  ; 
In  woods  the  birds  are  holding 

Their  merry  valentine  ; 
On  hill,  in  meadow  waking, 

Peep  out  the  blue-eyed  flowers ; 
And  forest  leaves  are  making 

A  shade  for  summer  hours  : 
And  why  should  not  my  heart  be  gay. 
When  all  the  world  is  now  at  play  ? 


SPRING.  77 

Ami  every  heart  is  heating, 

Is  heating  full  with  love ; 
Advancing,  now  retreating. 

How  gently  woos  the  <love  ! 
On  topmost  hough  high  swinging — 

Ah!  there  is  none  so  gay, 
So  clear  his  voice  is  ringing, 

As  merry  thrush  to-day: 
An«;l  I  will  merrily  sing  my  song, 
As  O\T  the  lake  I  skim  a 


YOUTH  RECALLED. 


Ix  deepest  shade,  by  fountain  sparkling  clear, 
High  o'er  me,  darkly  heaved,  the  forest  dome, 

Sweet  tones,  long  silent, 'inch  upon  my  ear — 
They  soothe  my  spirit,  like  the  voire  of  home ; 

And  Mended  with  them,  floats  a  beam  of  light, 

Radiant,  but  gentle,  through  the  shadowy  night. 

My  heart,  that  sunk  in  dim  oblivious  dream, 
Wakes  at  the  tones,  and  feels  its  life  again  ; 

My  downcast  eye  uprises  to  the  beam  ; 
Softly  untwines  my  bosom's  heavy  chain: 

A  stream  of  melody  around  me  flows  ; 

Anew  the  smothered  fire  of  feelin^  glows. 


YOUTH    RECALLED.  79 

The  charm,  long  lost,  is  found,  and  (pishing  pours, 
From  fancy's  heaven,  its  beauty,  as  a  shower  ; 

The  mystic  deep  casts  up  its  wondrous  stores  ; 
Mind  stands  in  panoply  of  fullest  power. 

Heaving  with  wakened  purpose,  swells  the  soul : 

Its  harriers  fall ;   its  gathered  treasures  roll. 

Light  covers  all  around — light  from  on  high, 

Soft  as  the  last  retiring  tint  of  even. 
Full  as  the  glow  that  fills  the  morning  sky, 

Pure  as  the  midmost  hhie  of  cloudless  heaven: 
.Like  pillared  -bronze  the  lofty  trunks  aspire, 
And  every  leaf  above  is  tipt  with  lire. 

And  round  me  still  the  magic  music  (lows; 

A  thousand  different  tones  dissolve  in  one  : 
Softer  than  ever  gale  of  evening  blows, 

They  blend  in  harmony's  enchanted  zone. 
With  pictured  web  and  golden  fringe  they  bind, 
For  higher  flight,  the  renovated  mind. 

I  feel  it  round  me  twine — the  band  of  power  ; 

Youth  beats  in  every  vein — life  bursts  in  bloom  : 
All  seems  as  when,  at  twilight's  blissful  hour, 

Breathed  from  the  flowery  grove  the  gale's  per 
fume  ; 

The  laugh,  the  shout,  the  dance — and  then  the  strain 
Of  tenderest  love  dissolved  the  heart  again. 


80 


YOUTH    RECALLED. 


Ye  greet  me  fair,  ye  years  of  hope  and  joy, 
Ye  days  of  trembling  fears  and  ardent  loves, 

The  reeling  madness  of  the  impassioned  hoy— 
Through  wizard  wilds  again  my  spirit  roves, 

And  beauty,  veiled  in  fancy's  heavenly  hue, 

Smiles  and  recedes  before  my  longing  view. 

The  light  has  nYd  ;  the  tones,  that  won  my  heart 
Rack  to  its  early  heaven,  again  are  still : 

A  deeper  darkness  broods — with  sudden  start 
Repelled,  my  life  relapses  from  its  thrill : 

Heavier  the  shades  descend,  and  on  my  ear 

Only  the  bubbling  fountain  murmurs  near. 


A  VISION. 


"WHENCE  dost  thou  come  to  me, 

Sweetest  of  visions, 
Filling  my  slumbers  with  holiest  joy  ?" 

"  Kindly  I  bring  to  thec 

Feelings  of  childhood, 
That  in  thy  dreams,  thou  be  happy  awhile.' 

"Why  dost  thou  steal  from  mo 

JEver  as  slufni>er 
Flies,  and  reality  chills  me  again?" 

"Life  thou  must  struggle  through: 

Strive — and  in  slumber 
Sweetly  again  I  will  steal  to  thy  soul." 
8 


TIIK    PORTS  WOKU). 


BRIGHT  World  !  too  beautiful  for  luniinn  eye,   . 
Creation  of  portie  thought,  in  vain 
I  seek  thee  hero.     Thou  bendost  far  away 
ThV  airy  <»r!)it.     Thine  arc  other  suns. 
And  other  stars — a  brightness  all  thy  own, 
A  day  self-lighted,  and  thy  iuai;ic  ui«jht 
Is  hut  a  veil  oYr  day.      1  sock  thro  IHTO, 
When  mom  in.:;  lights  the  oast,  and  tips  with  gems 
IVt'|>  s<'t  in  waving  <^old,  lii^h  mountain  peak, 
Then  tower  and  tree,  and  over  field  and  »rovc 
Pours  out  a  llood  of  pearls,  and  sheets  the  sea 
"With  litjuid  tlame — 1  seek  thee,  when  at  noon, 
Hiirh  on  his  throne,  tlie  visible  lord  of  li»ht 
Kides  in  his  fullest  hla/e,  and  dashes  wide 
Thirk  ilaslies  from  his  wheels — 1  seek  theo,  too, 
AVlien  twilight  shades  the  meadow,  and  the  hills 
Alone  are  lighted — \vlic.i  the  sky  above 


with  a  fading  heauty,  and  below 
Uncertain  Moats  the  plain — nor  less  when  night, 
("lad  in  her  s;ihle  robe,  sits  silently 
Above  the  slumbering  earth,  and  tltrougti  fJif  vast 
Immeasurable  darkness,  shadowy  forms 
Unhidden  eoine  and  go — I  seek  thee  here, 
And  yet  I  find  thee  not.      In  all  its  change 
Of  time  :md  season —  all  its  shifting  scenes 
Of  sun  and  storm — of  life  new  bursting  forth 
In  hlossoiny  spring,  vigorous  in  inanlv  pride, 
Or  ripe  lor  harvest — all  of  high  and  bright, 
Deep  and  ohsenre — the  clear  expanded  areh 
1'road  swe«'ping  o\«r  us,  or  with  pietnred  ureatlis 
1 1  ting  festively  Jit  dawn,  or  heaving  fortli 
]{|a«*k  hillowy  mountains,  like  a  rliain  of  Alps 
Uplifted  into  heaven — wide  forest  glooms 
Far  stretehing  into  night,  and  yawning  eaves 
Where  the  void  infinite  opens — still  retreats 
Low  under  sheltering  woods,  and  shady  hanks 
Hollowed  in  roves,  where  fountains  welling  out 
Freshen  the  turf  and  llowers — in  all  its  change 
Karth  holds  thee  not.     Thine  is  a  fuller  growth 
Of  heauty — thine  the  genial  life  that  springs 
From  the  oVr-teeiiiing  mind,  and  heightens  all 
That  even  here  seems  glorious.      Man,  who  walks 
In  dignify  and  grace — heroic  pride. 
Or  yielding  loveliness — earth's  angel  erst, 


8-1  THE  POET'S  WORLD. 

Radiant  and  pure — now  sad  and  dimly  fair, 
Even  when  brightest — -Man  is  but  the  shade 
Of  thy  Humanity — such  heavenly  forms, 
As  flout  amid  the  stars,  and  dwell  enthroned 
In  light  unstained.     Thou  risest  to  the  eye 
Of  solitary  thought,  as  from  the  depths 
Of  mountain  valleys,  when  the  level  ray 
First  paints  the  aerial  rose,  uprolling  clouds 
Swell  into  towering  peaks,  and  glitter  bright 
With  all  the  glow  of  dawn — intenser  far 
In  brightness — more  magnificent  and  vast 
In  thy  extension,  and  thy  several  hues 
And  shapes,  purer  and  fairer.     Mind  in  thee 
Reveals  its  heavenly  spring — in  thee  it  tells 
Its  god-like  birth — not  from  the  trivial  play 
Of  blended  atoms,  but  a  spiritual  flame 
Warming  and  kindling  into  higher  life 
Our  perishable  frames,  here  poor  and  weak, 
The  creatures  of  decay,  obscuring  oft 
Its  living  beams,  and  even  in  dim  eclipse 
Quenching  its  orb — and  yet  the  eye  within 
Still  gazes  on  thee,  through  the  gathered  mist 
Of  evil  passions,  sees  thee  rolling  free 
In  thy  unclouded  track,  and  at  the  sight 
Hope  springs  and  hurries  to  thee. 


MINNESONG. 


r. 


IN  drm  waldc  m'ize  Aon* 

Sir»!i<%nt  klciniti  vo^HIin 
An  «l«-r  hei<I<?  blurr.o 

Blujent  gein  tie*  Meicn  scliin.  —  LIEHTEXSTEIJC. 


In  the  \voo<l  the  littlu 

W;ir!»lo  s<\v«'«-t  tlu-ir  rouiuU-Iay  ; 
On  tin-  h«'uth  tlir  pn-tty  fionris 

I3Ios.soiu  in  the  sheen  of  Ma}-. 


MAY  has  come — the  woods  are  ringing ; 

Clearer  sounds  the  hunter's  horn ; 
Birds  i»i  every  brake  are  singing ; 

Yellow  green  the  springing  corn. 

May  has  come — in  field  and  meadow 
Starry  bloom  the  virgin  (lowers ; 

Broad  the  maple  flings  its  shadow ; 
Snowy  white  the  elder  bowers. 


86  MIXXESOXG. 

Green  the  slope  of  yonder  mountain, 
Mellowed  to  a  golden  glow  ; 

Under  feathery  birch,  the  fountain 
Sparkles  in  its  gurgling  (low. 

Orchards  redden — crimson  blushes 
Tremble  o'er  the  apple  boughs  ; 

There  her  young  the  robin  hushes, 
Still  beside  her  trilling  spouse. 

Joy,  on  glittering  pinions  driven, 
Gailv  Hits  around,  above  ; 

Glancing  kindled  earth  and  heaven- 
All  is  life,  and  light,  and  love. 


II. 

Ir  wanton  \nmim  rot. 

Sain  dm  rose,  da  si  hi  den  lilien  stat. — VooELWKiDK. 

Ilrr  ohet'ks  irrvw  red  as  the  rose, 
That  I iy  the  lily  blows. 


"TAKE  this  garland  for  thy  golden  hair" — 
So  I  spake  unto  a  maiden  fair, 
Maid  with  eyes  of  love,  like  heaven's  own  blue, 
Thinnest  veil  of  cloud  soft  shining  through — 
"Take  this  garland — 'tis  of  earliest  bloom, 
Newly  plucked,  and  filled  with  fresh  perfume. 


M  1  X  X  E  8  O  X  0  .  8? 

Had  I  jewel  rare,  and  precious  stone, 
Gems  of  I  ml,  O!  they  were  thine  alone; 
Costliest  gill  for  thee  were  all  too  poor — 
Take  this  garland — I  can  give  no  more. 
Fairer  flowers  than  these  indeed  I  know  ; 
On  the  lonely  heath  alar  they  Mow  : 
There  the  violet  peeps  heside  the  spring, 
Coyly  peeps,  as  loving  linnets  sing — 
Co  with  me,  and  we  will  gather  there 
Fairer,  sweeter  (lowers  to  wreath  thy  hair." 
Bashfully  the  maid  the  garland  took  ; 
Like  rewarded  child,  she  blushed  and  shook : 
Clearest  red  her  eheek,  as  when  the  rose, 
Dewy  shene,  hehind  the  lilv  blows. 
Low  she  bowed,  and  love-looks  sparkled  clear, 
Vndcr  silken  lashes,  through  a  tear  : 
That  was  my  reward — (.) !  then'  was  one, 
Holier  far,  my  lips  shall  breathe  to  none. 


III. 

Vor  (loin  waldo,  in  i-im-iu  tal, 
sank  «Jiu  nahtr^al.  —  V 


'Fore  tlw  wtxxl,  :iwl  in  a  <lu!e, 
Luvtrly  sang  the  nightingale. 

UXDER  the  willow,  in  a  meadow, 
Where  the  hrook  was  running  clear, 

There  was  my  pillow,  dark  in  shadow, 
Blossom  and  verdure  springing  near. 


88  M  I  X  X  E  8  O  X  G  . 

Tore  the  wood,  anil  in  a  dale, 
Lovely  sang  the  nightingale. 

Silent  reclining  ihe  willow  under, 

Just  as  evening  laded  away, 
Sweetly  shininir,  a  heavenly  wonder 

Uent  above  me,  as  there  I  lay  : 
Liijht  her  form  ;  her  lace  was  pale — 
Lovely  sang  the  nightingale. 

Nymph  of  fountain,  in  dewy  brightness 
Rising  from  wave  in  vest  of  green  ; 

Dryad  of  mountain,  with  airy  lightness 
Flitting  around  the  huntress  queen-— 

All  to  that  heavenly  form  must  vail, 

Smiling  as  sang  the  nightingale. 

Then  she  addressed  me — 44O!  why  dost  linger 
Here  in  a  world  that  ehnins  thy  will?" 

Softlv  she  pressed  me  with  snowy  finger—— 
Pulse  and  beating  heart  were  still. 

Lovely  sang,  in  the  lonely  dale, 

Fainter  and  fainter,  the  nightingale. 


THE  KNIGHT 


rr  tnii*  von  rysrn  an 
Das  wi-n*  wistT  als  «-in  Swan 
Scin  WalTVnrock  gal»  lichtcn 


Di  clan*  siisso  r«'ino 
Pi  wrn  !«•  us>ok«»rin» 

Pi   ••.lr!!i..r!m,-!*,rm- 

Kyn  vil  hrrrcliSi-a  wip.  — 


h<»  ha«!  of  iron  on, 
Tint  \v;»s  \\ljitir  tlum  a  swan; 
LiJit  and  l>nglit  Ins  armour  siiono. 


Tin*  worthy  <%h«»s«in, 

Th«'  noMy  Ismh-Uirn, 

A  wile  to  hrart  most  dear. 

WHO  yonder  rides  through  wind  and  rain, 

With  plumed  helm,  and  shield,  and  spear? 
How  licet  he  dashes  o'er  the  plain  — 

The  distant  shelter  soon  is  near. 
With  bearing  hold  lie  scours  alon«r  ; 

lie  bends  with  practised  hand  the  rein: 
From  clash  of  arms  and  battle  throng, 

To  wife  and  home  he  turns  again. 


90  THE    KNIGHT. 

He,  who  so  proudly  speeds  afar, 
Is  the  famed  champion,  Adhemar. 

On  gallant  steed,  in  armour  bright, 

To  serve  his  kin:*  he  rode  to  war: 
Erect  he  moved  in  burnished  light  ; 

'.Mid  crowds  his  helmet  shone,  a  star, 
lie  couched  his  lance  ;  he  burst  nway; 

His  gallop  thundered  o'er  the  Held  : 
In  dust  the  bleeding  foemau  lay  ; 

I'nhurt  by  splintered  lance  his  shield. 
lie  drew  his  flashing  blade — and  wide 
Rolled  startled  back  the  warrior  title. 

The  victory  won,  with  glory  crowned, 

To  wife  and  home,  as  country,  trti<\ 
As  praise  and  blessing  echoed  round, 

Back  to  that  wife  and  home  he  flew, 
Loud  bursts  the  storm  :  the  river  swells  ; 

He  dashes  through  the  roaring  wave: 
N«»r  field  nor  flood  Ids  spirit  quells  ; 

Life  has  no  terrors  for  the  brave  : — 
And  now  across  that  sweep  of  plain, 
See,  see  !  the  gallant  champion  strain. 


She  gazes  from  the  highest  tower — 
The  night  is  dark;  the  wind  is  chill : 


TIIK    KNHIIIT. 

Through  midnight's  wildest,  dreariest  hour, 
With  sleepless  eye  she  ga/cs  still. 

The  hright,  tin*  pun*,  the  chosen  one, 
Of  nohlest  dames  the  fairest  star, 

IM  worth,  in  loveliness,  alone, 

Through  night  ami  storm,  sat  watching  there. 

I  lark,  yonder  horn  !    lie  eouies  !  —  she  springs, 

And  flics,  as  if  her  feet  were  wings. 


She  draws  the  holt  ;  the  ponderous  jrite 

Rolls  hack,  as  from  a  giant's  hand  : 
Quirk  falls  the  hridge  —  sh<-  cannot  wait; 

Love  draws  her  forth  with.  magic  hand. 
Tramp!  tramp!  —  her  Adhernar  is  n«-nr, 

And  now  she  sees  his  Armour  hright  — 
His  eager  welcome  meets  lier  '-MT  ; 

He  comes:  —  he  springs  —  sl»e  clasps  her  knight. 
What  cares  he  for  the  wind  or  rain? 
He  holds  his  Yliit  again. 


LIFE'S  DREAM. 


Arh  !  dtirfton  \vir  mit  Triinmon  nicht 

Die  Wirkli.-hkeit  vi>rue!n-n. 
"\Vi«»  arm  art   Kar!»e,  (Jlari/  imd  l.irht 

d;tHn  du  Mctuwlirnlflivn?—  X.W.  SciiLEGBL. 


Ah  '  mulil  wo  not  rntwin<% 
Krality  with  «lr«-:uns, 
JIoxv  j»4>or  in  rolmir,  nlow  and  light, 
Wt-rt  thoii  then,  Jluni.in  [<ii»'  ? 


iijio  T,r!tons!ast  timl-soino 
\V<-nn  nirht  ilrr  kurzr  Trauin  <1«T  LirU-  wlin;  ? — MEYKR. 

"\\1io  \votild  ln-ar  tho  lutrtlion  and  nnptim-ss  of  life,  if  the  f>!.ort 
dn-ani  ol"  l«>vo  wrro  not  ? 


Truim  vrrsrl»win«l<»t, 
Mit  ihin  drs  Lctx/nx  (Jliirk. — EHXST 

Lifo's  dream  disappears — with  it,  life's  bliss. 

LIGHT  and  bright  the  vision  plays, 
Like  the  evening's  fitful  blaze 

Over  meadow  careering  along — 
Fairy  phantoms  hover  ;  blossoms  strow 
Thick  the  verdure,  as  with  snow; 

Breathes  the  elfin's  magical  song. 


LIFE'S  DRK AM.  03 

Fair  the  moon  in  azure  floats, 
Bend i HIT  o'er  the  enchanting  notes, 

As  if  longing  to  glide  from  her  sphere  : 
White  wings  faintly  quiver;  near  and  fur 
Glow-worm  twinkles  hack  to  star. 

Lighting  a  softer  galaxy  here. 

Sweet  hy  sparkling'  fountain  sings, 
Sweet  and  elear,  as  tone  that  rings 

Pure  from  Harmony's  crystalline  throne — 
Sweetly  sings  a  spirit  ;  still  the  air 
Drinks  the  song — its  pulses  hear 

Far  through  the  night  the  heavenly  tone. 

Peering  quick  from  shadowy  glades, 
Glancing  hack  to  deeper  shades, 

Forms  too  bright  and  beautiful  play : 
Gentle  voices  whisper  ;  snowy  doves 
Circle  forth,  as  sent  by  loves — 

Wheel  then  on  farming  pinions  away. 

Quick  steps  hurry  to  my  side ; 
Round  my  heart  soft  touches  glide. 

Wreathing  fetters  of  lily  and  rose. — 
Viewless  forms  embrace  me  ;  whispers  say, 
"  Press  the  joys — not  long  they  stay  : 

Comes  like  a  stream  the  pleasure,  and  flows/* 
9 


94  LIFE'S  DREAM. 

Sweetly  dim  the  trance  of  love  : 
As  through  veil  of  roses  wove, 

Steals  its  purple  light  to  the  .soul. 
Break  the  magic  shunher — cold  and  bare, 
AVaste  and  dark,  life  meets  us  there  : 

Break   the     dream — thou    hast    withered   the 
vhole  ! 


THE  IIEXLI.  (LITTLE  WITCH.) 


I  lauf  no  alii  Porfrr  UM, 
i  such  und  fn«  vo  HUM  z«  Ifus, 
und  uiird  IIMT  nit  nu  H«»xli  cl.mm!f 
se  \\iinii  v*tu  iiiiiiune  g'suiul. — HEUEL. 


I  nm  through  all  t 
1  xiH-k  and  ask  from  h< >•!«««•  to  house, 
Am!  if  J  <!o  not  find  my  Hcxli, 
Then  J  shall  never  be  well. 


I  WHITTLED  at  a  stick  one  day — 
Twas  just  to  pass  the  time  away: 
A  little  girl  came  tripping  }>y, 
With  rosy  look  and  witching  eye. 

With  artless  smile  and  simple  grace, 
She  looked  me  sweetly  in  mv  face, 
And  said,  "That  knife  is  sharp,  I  ween- 
Another  thing  will  cut  as  keen." 


THE    I!  KX  1,1. 

And  thon  she  laughed,  and  said,  "flood-day 
And  like  a  dream  had  flown  away  ; 
The  voice,  the  look  was  with  me  still, 
When  all  at  once  I  felt  me  ill. 

I  could  not  work.  I  could  not  play  ; 
1  saw  and  heard  her  all  the  day — 
That  witching  eye  was  sharp,  I  ween  ; 

0  !  that  was  what  would  cut  so  keen. 

1  saw  and  heard  her  day  and  night — 
Her  voice  so  soft.  h«.»r  eye  so  hright : 
\Vhcn  others  lay  in  slum!>er  sweet, 

I  heard  the  clock  each  hour  repeat. 

I  could  not  stay  and  linger  so  : 
Like  one  entranced,  away  I  go  ; 
Through  lie  Id  and  forest,  far  and  wide, 
I  seek  if  there  the  witch  doth  hide. 

By  hush  and  hrakc,  by  rock  and  hill, 
Where'er  I  go,  I  see  her  still : 
The  little  girl,  with  witching  eye, 
Is  ever,  ever  tripping  by. 

Through  town  and  village,  too,  I  stray  ; 
At  every  house  I  call  and  say, 


THE    HEX  LI.  07 

"O !  can  you  tell  me  where  to  find 
The  little  girl  that  witched  my  mind  T 

I've  sought  her  many  a  weary  mile; 
Me  thought  I  saw  her  all  the  while: 
Ah!   if  I  can't  tin;  witch  obtain, 
1  never  shall  be  well  again. 


THE  MAIDEN. 


Kin  schlirhtos  Mudchcn  nnr. 

Kuifarh  Miul  trvu  «!nn  an-Hio'irncn   St  untie, 

"War  sriiu*   \NYlt  diess  Thai. — Si* II INK. 

Only  a  modest  maiden. 

Simple,  and  faithful  l<>  IHT  native  m:\nncrs, 

^N 'us  all  her  \vurM  t!ii.s  vali;. 

Solch  cini-n  G«-ist,  in  rinr>m  solchi-n  Dlicko, 
Zcij;l  nyr  dcin  Liirhcln  uns. —  Vu.N  FldEDHLUKRC. 

Such  a  soul,  in  surh  a  l«x»k, 
Tiiy  srnilc  aloiu?  rcvrals  us. 

THROUGH  a  valley  flows  a  gentle  river, 
Gently  flows,  with  waters  deep  and  elcar; 
In  a  flowery  meadow,  spreading  near, 

Silken  leaves  of  slender  poplars  quiver. 

There  a  quiet  maiden  singeth  ever 
Simple  melodies  of  truth  and  love  : 
Pure  and  artless  as  the  snowy  dove, 

Evil  thought  hath  stained  her  bosom  never. 


THE    MAIDEN*.  90 

Lovely,  too,  as  rose  but  half  unfolded ; 

Modest  as  that  rose,  when  bent  with  dew : 
Blue  her  eye,  as  heaven's  own  softest  hue ; 

Lip  as  fresh  as  living  ruby  moulded. 

Smiles  .she  hath  that  tell  of  sunny  feeling — 
Only  smiles  like  hers  sueh  feeling  tell  : 
Touch  the  chord  of  grief,  and  at  the  spell, 

Tears  of  love  and  innocence  are  stealing. 

Home  and  parent,  kindred,  friend  and  lover, 
All  embraced  within  this  lonely  vah — 
All  beyond  is  to  her  but  a  tale  : 

This  her  world,  and  heaven  just  arches  over. 


THE  POWER  OF  SOXG. 


SAncm  inm'har  all  lifvctH  Ivcka,— HEDHORX. 
The  Miss  of  life  is  all  in  son-;. 

Zutirhli  vieterki.  zaniolkli  ptir-  \  chory, 
'  |»rilet:li  stada. — '\i  i!.-»v. 

Still  became  the  winds,  silent  the  choirs  of  birtls,  nnd  sale  l»y 
side  ihc  Hooks  reclined. 

Osj  dfts  ln'tvilningsritro  tonrr  svrrvrd* 
MrUnlisk   i:ii  inu'iu  Scrlt-ts  stormr   h«»n. 
Mm  ak  ' — soul  .-l-'olsharjM'tis  hanru»iticrf 

'1'ldt    o\»T»lo'vi'«lr    :if  li'll**    vimlstvul, 
l\»sl  alilrii  tjvaltc.— |»KAM. 

And  away  its  full  mranin::  tonrs  boated  im-loiliously  throush  the 
stonn«<  ot  tnn«».  l»ut  ah!  lik«'  tl»r  harmonics  of  ihr  /Kolian  harp, 
ofti'ii  (Irowm-d  \>\  tin-  hollow  Mast,  \<-t  n«'vcr  stilU-d. 

IN  tlio  temple  stands  the  jjoMrn  lyre, 

Near  the  presence  of  the  Denial  power ; 
Round  it  plays  ::n  orb  of  holiest  fire — 

So  it  stan-ls,  and  waits  the  inspiring  hour. 
Rolls  the  sun  unto  his  highest  throne  ; 

Broad  he  fills  the  lemple's  vaulted  shade  : 
Touehed  by  hands  unseen,  in  solemn  tone, 

Rings  the  harp — the  winds  are  laid. 


THE    POWER    OF    SON'O.  »         101 

Slow  and  full  they  swell — the  mystic  chords ; 

Stillness,  more  than  awful,  fills  the  air : 
Mingled  with  the  tones,  sublitncst  words 

High  the  listening  soul,  in  glory,  hear. 
Light  is  all  around  him  ;  light  and  love, 

As  on  wings,  aloft  the  listener  raise  : 
Ever  wider  heaves  tho  arch  ahove  ; 

Fairer  heauty  round  him  plays. 

Now  they  swell — the  tones,  and  swells  the  breast. 

Kindled  with  the  Miss  of  great  design: 
Faint  the  music  whispers  ;  hushed  to  rest. 

Couched  on  flowers,  the  passions  all  recline  : 
Clear  the  harp  resounds  ;  the  spirit's  eye 

Keenest  glance  through  nature's  wonders  throws: 
Tenderer  touches  glide,  ami  silently 

Blest  the  tear  of  feeling  Hows. 


How  hushed  the  winds!  how  calm  the  air! 

The  leaf  is  still  on  bush  and  tree  ; 

No  blossom  shakes,  and  quietly 
The  herd  and  flock  are  resting  there. 

They  feel  the  soothing  power  of  song; 

A  stream  of  love,  it  flows  along— 
The  winds  are  still ;  the  sky  is  fair. 


102  THK    POWKR    OF    SO  NO. 

IU*  mngic  shores  the  vessel  glides  ; 

Entranced  by  song,  the  waves  arc  laid  : 
Visions  of  home,  forgotten,  fade; 

In  peace  the  storm-beat  wanderer  rides. 
Smooth  sleeps  the  sea  ;  serenest  day 
Smiles  o'er  the  ocean  far  away: 

The  power  of  song  has  hushed  the  tides. 

Pale  in  the  west  the  glow  decays, 

That  late  arose  in  golden  lire  ; 

Waked  by  the  touch  of  soft  desire, 
Through  twilight  shades  the  music  plays. 

In  darkened  vale  its  pulses  thrill  ; 

Peace  broods  above  the  glimmering  hill  ; 
His  llight  the  licet  ing  moment  stays. 


It  comes — the  storm,  so  long  repelled, 

In  wilder  rage  again  ; 
Like  wintry  stream,  by  barrier  swelled, 

Loud  bursts  it  o'er  the  plain  : 
\Yith  gathered  might  it  sweeps  along ; 

Like  thunder,  peals  its  roar  : 
The  .Kolian  melodies  of  song 
Are  lost,  amid  the  wildering  throng; 

The  Ivre  is  heard  no  more. 


THE    POWER    OF    SOXO.  103 

A  moment's  pause  tin*  tempest  feels, 

Ami  soil  the  heavenly  tone. 
As  evening  hymn  from  eottage  steals, 

Hreathes  sweetly  faint  ami  lone. 
Uneertain,  as  if  thrilled  with  fear, 

It  melts  ami  dies  away: 
I  turn,  ami  wait  with  longing  ear, 
And  low  ami  dim  it  rises  near, 

Quick  falls — it  ean  not  stay. 

Serene  and  ealm  the  world  of  song, 
A  hove  the  cloud  and  gale  : 

There  (lows  a  sheeted  stream  along, 
Through  many  a  silent  vale.  : 

There  ever  blue  the  sunny  sky; 
Spring-warm  the  wooing  air: 

\Vhite  iilmy  wreaths  of  beauty  lie, 

Alone,  in  holiest  rest,  on  high- 
Love  dwells  forever  there. 


LAYS. 


MELLOW  fades  the  glow  of  even  ; 

Cool  the  shadow  round  the  spring : 
Clouds,  by  Autumn  breezes  driven, 
Stream  along  the  amber  heaven. 

Bright  and  clear  as  spirit's  wing. 
From  the  holy  shrine  of  feeling, 

Kindled  by  departing  day, 

IMessed  visions  llit  away — 
Through  the  pictured  forest  stealing, 

Hound  the  magic  mountain  play. 

Molting  with  the  blue  afar, 

Lightly  tipped  with  golden  flame, 
Flashing  like  the  regal  star, 
Sky-o'ercrowned,  ascends  the  bar, 
Bent  around  the  course  of  fame. 


LAVS.  1 05 

Far  it  swoops  in  daz/ling  light ; 

Fire-winged  coursers  urge  the  wheel ; 

Kchoes  wide  the  ringing  stool — 
AVlio  ran  loll  tho  full  delight, 

Tell  tho  joy  tho  champions  fool  ? 

Soft  its  diva  my  shade  diffusing, 

Twilight  stroains  athwart  tlio  grove, 
Fills  tlio  soul  with  siloiit 
'J'ill  in  dovious  tranoi's 

All  its  thoughts,  it  sinks  in  love. 
Soft  and  still  as  moonlit  ocean, 

Silvor-mirron-d  dorp  and  oloar, 

Hiddon  music  pulsing  war, 
Glidos  it,  with  unconscious  motion, 

Far  away  to  holier  sphere. 

Startled  hy  tho  instant  flash, 

Breaks  tlio  flower-en  woven  dream — 
Thunder  rends  with  deadening  crash; 
"Winds  tho  mingling  hranchcs  lash; 

Hursts  the  storm,  like  wintry  stream. 
Where  is  now  the  musing  soul  ? 

Nerved  to  moot  the  raging  war, 

Stern  it  mounts  its  iron  car: 
Swift  the  crushing  chariots  roll — 

Fierce  his  steeds  the  warrior  bear. 
10 


106  LAVS. 

Far  away  the  pausing  thunder 
Echoes  from  remotest  hill ; 

Faint  the  rain-drop  patters  under 

Loaded  leaves  that  bend  asunder, 
As  with  trickling  streams  they  fill. 

So  the  still  small  voice  of  feeling, 
'.Mill  the  din  of  inward  strife, 
To 'the  heart  with  passion  rife, 

Mild  as  y.fpliyr  whispers  healing, 
Breathes,  and  wakes  the  soul  to  life. 


II. 

HARK  !  the  song 

Floats  along, 

Clearly  swelling,  softly  dying, 
Soft  as  wind  in  roses  sighing. 

O'er  the  plain 

Sweeps  again 

Sudden  hurst  of  hope  and  gladness — 
Trembles  then  the  trill  of  sadness. 

Rock  and  hill 

Give  it  still, 

Bright  and  clear,  the  sweet  emotion — 
Deep  and  full,  the  heart's  devotion. 


LAYS.  1 07 

Shadows  fall— 

Voices   call 

Fondly  homo  the  truant,  straying 
Down  the  brook  in  eddies  playing. 

Daylight  flies — 

Amber  skies, 

O'er  the  shadowy  mountain  glowing, 
Darken  ;  yet  the  song  is  flowing. 


III. 

THROUGH  the  wood,  in  evening's  shadow,  straying; 

O'er  mo  arched  the  houghs,  in  silent  gloom ; 
Deep  in  dreamy  vision,  long  delaying — 

Fades  to  night  the  day's  departing  bloom. 

Fades  the  skiey  rose,  that  over  mountain 
Blossomed  wide  and  full  in  fields  of  air — 

Bloomed  in  heaven  aloft,  and  low  in  fountain 
Shone  in  softer  tints,  as  pure  and  fair. 

Darkness  veils  me  round,  and  voices,  gliding 
Through  the  murmuring  foliage,  seem  to  *ay: 

"  Pause,  and  listen  to  the  spirit's  chiding — 
Haste,  O !  haste  to  brighter  worlds  away. 


108  LAYS. 

Mark  the  last  soft  tiilt  of  day,  receding 
O'er  the  top  of  yomlor  solemn  pine! 

So  departs  the  lingering  spirit,  leading 
To  yon  purer  chy's  eternal  shine. 

There  await  thee  all  thy  heart  has  cherished- 
There  the  early  loved,  the  hoped  and  gone 

Not  a  treasure  of  thy  heait  has  perished  — 
All  to  vonder  world  of  rest  have  down." 


IV. 

SPEED  thee  far — 

Fancy  lends  thee  her  ear — 

Over  ocean  away 

Speed  to  holier  day. 

Ocean's  swell 

Bears  on  its  bosom  the  shell — 
Love  shall  open  the  sail 
Full  to  the  favoring  gale. 

Wing  of  might, 
Sent  from  the  fountain  of  light, 
High  on  billows  of  air 
Thee,  in  triumph,  shall  bear. 


LAYS.  101> 

Youth  shall  bring 
AYine  from  perennial  spring — 
Over  the  goblet  shall  shine 
Halo  of  glory  divine. 

Hound  the  throne, 
IJeauty  sliall   loosen  her  zone — 
Melting  in   kindling  shower, 
Spirit  shall  (ill  thce  with  power. 


V. 

O!  THAT  I  lay  on  yonder  mountain, 

So  hint;  and  lair — 
In  shade  of  rock,  hy  gushing  fountain, 

Aloft  in  air. 

The  cloud  and  storm  might  swell  below  me, 

The  thunder  roll  — 
Yet  waves  of  light  should  overflow  me, 

And  warm  my  soul  ; 

And  peace,  unbroken  peace,  forever 

Around  me  piny ; 
And  thought,  serene  and  calm,  be  never 

Compelled  away ; 

10*  * 


110  LAYS. 

And  blush  of  dawn,  and  rose  of  even, 
My -heart  should  fill 

Oft  with  the  loveliness  of  heaven, 
So  bright  and  still. 

O !  had  I  but  the  eagle's  pinion, 

Thither  I'd  soar, 
And  there  possess  my  sole  dominion. 

Till  life  be  o'er. 


VI. 

THEY  call  me — they  call  me,  from  meadow  and 

grove  ; 
They  sing  to  me  sweetly  of  hope  and  of  love  ; 

•And  dove-like  and  peacefully,  over 

My  pillow,  they  hover. 

And  they  say  to  me  kindly:  "  O  !  hasten  away — 
Xo  longer  in  dreamy  oblivion  stay — 

Voting  life  with  its  bloom  is  before  thee, 

And  heaven  is  o'er  thee. 

O'er  valley  and  mountain,  in  beauty  and  light, 
The  world  stretches  onward,  so  dewy  and  bright — 

The  roses  are  budding  beside  thee — 

"What  joy  shall  betide  thee  ! 


LAYS.  Ill 

The  day  has  awakened,  so  fresh  and  so  fair ; 
The  clouds  float  aloft  in  the  warm  summer  air; 

All  nature  is  swelling  wiih  gladness— 

O  !  sink  not  in  sadness/' 

I  hear  ye — I  hear  ye — I  will  not  delay. 

Hut  up,  and  o'er  valley  and  mountain  awuy — 

Through  life,  like  a  bird,  1  will  hie  me — 

Hope  never  shall  ilv  me. 


VH. 

"O!   REST  thee  here  in  silent  bower — 
The  noon-shut  folds  its  yellow  (lower — 
The  air  shines  quivering  oVr  the  hill, 
And  all  around  is  hushed  and  still. 

On  mossy  pillow  lay  thee  here — 
A  spring,  so  cool,  is  bubbling  near — 
O!   lay  thee  down— a  draught  I  'II  brinjj, 
So  clear  and  sparkling,  from  that  spring. 

Ah !  tliou  a  long  and  weary  way 
Hast  travelled  through  the  sultry  day — 
Close  soft  thy  eyes,  and  I  will  keep 
Watch  o'er  thee  in  thy  gentle  sleep. 


112  LAYS. 

My  heart  is  rich — my  hand  is  free, 

However  poor  and  low  I  he  : 

I  have  hut  little  in  my  store — 

I  give  thee  all — what  could  I  more  ?*' 

"Thy  cup  I  drink,  and  now  I  close 
My  weary  eyes  in  sweet  repose. 
Thy  heart  is  rich — thy  hand  is  free! 
A  print-. -ss,  thou  shall  go  with  me." 


VIII, 

THE  song  is  still,  that  over  heath  and  mountain, 

When  closed  the  day. 
Thro'  glimmering  wood,  !>y  sky-empurpled  fountain, 

Stole  soft  away — 
In  shady  vale,  hy  stream  through  roses  playing, 

On  golden  hill, 
Breathed  faint  and  low,  as  tenderly  delaying — 

The  song  is  still. 

The  song  is  still,  that  clear  in  morning  hovered 

O'er  field  and   grove, 
When  billowy  mist  the  winding  valley  covered, 

Rocks  glowed   above — 


LAYS.  113 

When  bleat  and  bark,  from  bushy  lawn  repeated, 

Hose  round  the  hill — 
The  joyous  song,  that  light  and  buoyant  fleeted — 

The  song  is  still. 

O !  wake  the  song — its  notes  remembered  waken 

My  love  of  home : 
Spite  of  my  firmer  will,  my  heart  is  shaken 

J>y  thoughts  that  eome. 
Thoughts  of  my  early  days— in  frolic  measure 

They  glide  along  : 
The  song  of  youth,  to  notes  of  love  and  pleasure — 

O  !   wake  the  song. 


IX. 

is  on  the  hill— 
Hushed  the  clattering  mill: 
Deeper  shadows  fall — 
Only  mothers  eall, 
Careless  as  they   roam, 
Laughing  youngsters  home. 

Now  the  evening  star, 
Over  mountain  far, 
Mild  in  beauty  beaming, 
On  the  fountain  streaming, 


114  LAYS. 

Turns  the  eye  of  love 
To  the  heaven  above. 

Dark  and  darker  spread 
Shadows  o'er  the  hed 
Of  the   woodland   lake  ; 
Fainter  ripples  break 
On  the   pebbled  shore — 
Evening's  breeze  is  o'er. 

Night   is  deep  and   still- 
Stars  unnumbered   fill 
Nature's  temple  o'er  me ; 
Glides  a,  light   before  me, 
Steals  in  darkness  far— 
"Fis  my  spirit's  star. 


S  are  rngng  ; 
Maidens  singing 

JJy  the  village  tree  : 
Wreaths  and  banners  flying, 
Youth  his  vigour  trving, 

Joy  is  wild  and  free. 


LAVS.  115 


Harvest  over, 
Friend  and  lover 

Hasten  to  the  green : 
Love  with  crown  of  myrtle, 
Health  in   forest  kirtle, 

Beauty  rules  as  queen. 

Fleetly  glancing, 
Lightly  dancing, 

All   is  laugh  and  song — 
So  till   golden   even 
Kindles  earth  and  heaven, 

So  they  wheel  along. 

Bright  in  gushes, 
Smiles  and  hlushes 

Come  and  (lit  away. 
Harvest  now  is  over — 
So  shall  friend  and  lover 

Greet  the   festive  dav. 


XI. 

THE  snow  is  gone — 
The  waters  run, 
Through  valley  rushing, 
From  cavern  gushing, 


110  LAVS. 


And  foam  ii 

lit  li^ht   and  song. 

The  sky  is  blue  ; 
The  Spring  is  new  ; 
The  l»u«ls'  are  swelling  ; 
The  stag  is  belling  ; 
The  lark  and  dove 
I?  rin«   life  :uul   love. 

The  woods  are  green  ; 
In  emerald  slicen 
The  irrass  is  springing  ; 
Tln»  vules  are  riu.irin^ 
AVitli  bound  and  liorn  — 
Yoiiujr  Mav  is  born  ! 


XII. 

GIVE  me  that  fond  music, 

That  charmed  my  heart  so  sweetly 

Softly  breathed  its  numbers, 

Deep  to  my  inmost  soul. 
The  light-winded  dunce  obeys  it; 

The  maidens  trip  it  featly; 
All  darker  passion  slumbers  ; 

Full  tides  of  gladness  roll. 


LAYS.  117 

Still  the  sound  is  flowing, 

Like  summer  brook  at  even, 
Over  pebbles  leaping 

In  sparkling  joy  along. 
The  wind  is  faintly  blowing; 

The  clouds  are  bright  in  heaven ; 
The  spirits  there  are  keeping 

A  festival  of  song. 

Wake  the  sounding  viol ! 

Dark  eyes,  with  speaking  glances, 
Kindle  high  with  pleasure,    • 

As  rings  the  well  known  strain. 
With  easy  gliding  motion, 

Involved  in  graceful  fancies 
Of  light  uncertain  measure, 

Responds  the  mimic  train. 


XIII. 

MoRxixo  is  lightest, 

Only  when  heaven  is  fair. 
Beauty  is  brightest, 

Only  when  virtue  is  there. 
11 


118  LAYS. 

Crystal  of  fountain, 

Foam  from  the  heart  of  the  sea, 
Snow  of  the  mountain, 

Virtue  !  are  emblems  of  thee. 

Beauty  !  we  lend  thee 

Blossom  and  gem  of  the  mine : 
Stars,  too,  attend  thee  ; 

Thine  are  the  rose  and  the  vino. 

Flowers  by  the  fountain, 

Mirrored  below  in  the  spring; 

Gems  on  the  mountain, 

Studding  the  snow  as  a  ring — 

Clearest  and  whitest 

Soften  by  veiling  their  glow  : 
Fairest  and  brightest 

Onlv  are  loveliest  so. 


XIV. 

Tis  dawn— 

The  rosy  light  is  breaking ; 
To  song  the  birds  are  waking ; 
And  starr>'  beads  are  shaking 

Along  the  grassy  lawn. 


LAYS.  J19 

Tis  noon— 

Blue  rise  the  hills  before  me ; 
Pure  swells  the  azure  o'er  me; 
And  radiant  blossoms  pour  me 

The  balmy  breath  of  June. 

*Tis  even — 

Gay  clouds,  like  curtains,  lie 
Athwart  the  golden  sky; 
The  wind  goes  whispering  by, 

Like  soothing  voice  from  heaven. 

Tis  night — 

The  world  how  hushed  and  still ! 
Dim  towers  the  shadowy  hill; 
Earth's  guardian  spirits  fill 

Their  urns  with  holy  light. 


XV. 

JOY  !  Joy ! 
The  long  dark  night  is  past ; 

The  weary  way  is  done ; 
Bright  o'er  the  mountain,  fast 

Ascends  the  cheering  sun. 


120  LAVS. 

Joy!  Joy! 
My  heart  revives  again  ; 

My  soul  new  lights  its  fires  ; 
I  speed  along  the  plain, 

With  hope  that  never  tires. 

See!  See! 
The  well  known  hill  is  nigh ; 

The  spin'  poplars  rise  ; 
The  brook  is  winding  by ; 

There  still  my  cottage  lies. 

Hark!  Hark! 
What  welcome  sounds  of  home  ! 

I  know  their  meaning  well : 
Far,  far  my  foot  may  roam, 

Yet  deep  and  strong  their  spell. 

Hark!  Hark! 
The  longing  heifer  lows; 

Shrill  barks  my  faithful  Tray  : 
His  master's  tread  he  knows, 

And  see  !  he  bounds  away. 

Shout!  Shout! 
The  goal,  the  goal  is  nigh ; 

My  love  is  at  the  door  : 
We  run,  we  leap,  ve  lly  ; 

We  meet  to  part  no  more ! 


LAVS.  121 


XVI. 

FAINTLY  breathes  the  maiden's  song 
Through  the  twilight  grove : 

Softly  sweet  it  steals  along— 
'Tis  the  song  of  love. 

Evening  slumbers  hushed  and  still ; 

Mute  the  hum  of  day : 
Only  winds  the  gurgling  rill 

Under  flowers  away. 

Whispered  voices  echo  far 
Through  the  shadowy  vale  ; 

Glimmers  by  a  twinkling  star 
Dian's  crescent  pale. 

Fade  in  darkness  bush  and  tree  ; 

Rock  and  wood  grow  dim  : 
Wide  o'er  pi-' in  and  silent  sea 

AVavering  phantoms  swim. 

Still  the  maiden's  murmured  song 
Trembles  through  the  grove  ; 

Steals,  like  spirit's  breath,  along — 
Tis  the  song  of  love. 


122  LAYS. 


xvii. 

I.v  sheeted  gold  the  river  glides 
By  rock  with  forest  crowned ; 

Deep  mirrored  in  its  crystal  tides, 
Bright  swell  the  hills  around. 

High  over  yonder  mountain  wall, 
That  darkly  girds  the  west, 

Broad  (lashes  li«ht  heaven's  airy  hall, 
Arid  stream  on  ocean's  hreast. 

Shot  upward  as  a  furnace  flare, 
Day's  funeral  fires  ascend  ; 

Then  fading  through  the  hazy  air, 
The  softer  colours  blend  : 

And  as  each  fleecy  cloud  they  stain, 
Filling  the  sky  with  bloom, 

The  freshening  breeze  along  the  plain 
Wafts  from  the  flowers  perfume  : 

And  wakened  by  the  gentle  hour, 

From  garden  thicket  flows 
Love-music,  worthy  of  its  bower, 

Its  sheltering  bower  of  rose. 


LAYS.  123 


It  steals  along  in  softest  tone, 

The  siren  melody — 
I  sit  and  drink  the  song  alone ; 

My  spirit  then  how  free ! 


XVIIL 

SITTIXO  by  a  meadow  brook, 

In  the  month  of  June, 
Once  a  short  repose  I  took, 
Just  at  sunny  noon. 

Blossoms,  many  tinted,  shone 

O'er  the  meadow  far ; 
But  one  blossom  stood  alone, 

'Mong  them  all  a  star. 

Once  it  seemed  a  full  blown  rose ; 

Golden  lily  then : 
Wreaths  of  snow-drops  now  unclose  ; 

131ooms  the  rose  again. 

Who  can  tell  the  wondrous  flower — 

Flower  that  reigns  alone  ? 
lie,  who  beauty's  magic  power 

O'er  the  heart  has  known. 


124  LAYS. 

XIX. 

I  low  gentle  the  water's  motion — 
How  silent  the  silver  sea — 

The  moonbeam  sleeps  on  the  ocean, 
How  calmly  and  peacefully! 

My  bark,  on  the  mirror  gliding, 
Seems  borne  by  spirits  along, 

Or  in  tremulous  stillness  riding, 
Deep  fixed  by  the  siren's  song. 

Uri'jht  quivers  the  sea  before  me, 
Like  gush  of  furnace  in  flow  : 

The  stars  are  glittering  o'er  me^ 
Bright  glitter  the  stars  below. 

What  voice  faint  uttered  is  stealing 
In  silence  along  the  sea  ? 

It  wakes  my  inmost  feeling — 
Thou  fairest,  it  leads  me  to  thec. 


XX. 

THE  night  is  still — on  meadow  and  silvery  fountain 
The  moonbeam  sleeps,  like  innocence  cradled  in 
love  : 


LAYS.  125 

\Vith  softened  smile,  it  rests  on  the  snow  of  the 

mountain, 
And  tints  the  sky,  like  wing  of  ethereal  dove. 

A  cloud  sails  by,  with  lightest  and  easiest  motion, 
Now  bossed  with  pearl,  now  shining  with  purple 
and  gold — 

It  glides  away,  like  vessel  afar  on  the  ocean, 
And  spirits  of  bliss  seem  home  on  its  silvery  fold. 

A  gentle  wind,  with  fragrance  of  jessamine  laden, 
Steals  faintly  on,  as  longing  for  calm  and  repose, 

And  with  it  steals  the  lingering  song  of  the  maiden, 
Whose  lonely  heart,  is  lightened  by  song  of  its 
woes. 

O !  list  the  c?ong — if  beauty  and  innocence  ever 
Have  touched  thy  soul,  thy  heart  will  respond  to 
the  strain. 

The  voice  of  love,  of  sorrow  and  longing,  will  never, 
In  soothing  tones,  he  lost  to  thy  spirit  again. 


XXI. 

OVER  hill  and  plain  and  mountain 
Speeds  away,  on  pinions  strong, 

Norvod  with  life  from  holy  fountain, 
Far  away,  the  soul  of  song. 


126  LAYS. 

O'er  it  swells  the  arch  of  heaven, 
Boundless  areh  of  softest  blue — 

Round  it  rise  the  hulls  of  even, 
Hung'  with  every  gorgeous  hue. 

To  the  spirit  land  of  wonder, 
Clouil-concealed,  it  speeds  afar, 

Borne  on  wings  of  rushing  thunder, 
Sounding  like  the  tempest  car — 

Rolling  high,  like  ocean  surges, 

When  the  midnight  Typhon  rings— 

Hollow  as  a  nation's  dirges, 

When  the  Almighty  vengeance  stings — 

Deep  and  full  as  torrent  pouring 

From  a  wasted  Alp  of  snows- 
Awful  as  a  Volean  roaring, 
Ere  its  fiery  deluge  flows — 

Yet  as  stream  in  shady  valley, 

Gurgling  low  through  grass  and  flowers  ; 
Evening  wind  in  garden  alley, 

Brushing  dew  from  lilac  bowers  ; 

I 

Mellow  horn,  as  twilight  closes, 

Winding  through  the  slumbering  grove; 


LAYS.  127 

Maiden  heart,  by  hedge  of  roses, 
Murmuring  faint  its  lay  of  love — 

Yet  so  soft  their  echo  lingers 
Round  the  tranced  listener's  car, 

Sweet  as,  struck  by  fairy  lingers, 

Breathes  the  wind-harp,  dim  and  clear. 

On  by  keenest  longing  driven, 

Speeds  away  their  eagle  flight, 
Till  the  magic  cloud-wall  riven, 

Dazzling  pours  a  sea  of  light. 

Then  as  beams  the  land  of  wonder, 

Bursting  from  its  cloudy  veil, 
Anthem  tones,  like  peals  of  thunder, 

Bid  the  new  inspirer  hail. 


XXII. 

FROM  rock  rebounding, 
Through  wood  resounding, 
In  changeful  echo  is  ringing 

The  early  horn, 

And  Youth  from  his  couch  is  springing, 
To  greet  the  morn. 


128  LAYS. 

The  bright  beams  quiver 
On  lake,  and  on  river ; 
The  dew  from  the  forest  is  falling, 

In  starn'  light ; 

And  Spring  on  her  train  is  calling, 
To  wing  their  (light. 

Young  Day !  we  hail  thec — 
Gay  clouds  half  veil  thee, 
As  over  the  dewy  mountain 

Thou  ri.sest  fair : 
Beneath  thy  smile,  the  fountain 
High  sparkles  there. 

Glad  songs  attend  thee  ; 
New  blossoms  lend  thee, 
By  fairy  touch  unfolded, 

Their  first  perfume, 
And  delicate  hands  have  moulded 
Their  varied  bloom. 

Joy  hovers  by  thee, 
And  Health  is  nigh  thee — 
A  mem-  dance  is  bounding 

Before  thy  car ; 

Their  songs,  aloft  resounding, 

Are  home  afar. 


LAYS.  129 

I  rim  to  meet  tliee — 
With  song  to  greet  thee  : 
Thy  handmaid,  Beauty,  around  me 

Her  loosened  zone 

Has  flung,  and  laughing  has  bound  me, 
To  be  her  own. 


12 


SLAVONIA 


PART   I. 


[Tlio  fnllowinir  srrios  of  Sonnets  is  appliraMo  to  thr  four  Irsui- 
ins  !'ran«-h«-s  of  tlw  Slavonic  ran-,  namely:  tin*  first  two,  to 
tlu*  Russian  :  tin-  tliinl,  t«>  the  Srrviaa  ;  th««  fouitK,  to  tin-  1'olisli; 
Hml  the  fifth,  to  tin-  Uu 


I. 


Mal«*nk«»v  kn»lik  w  tni\vki«*  zflrnoy 
S  iniloy   |v»i!nr/.'koy  t:u?i  otdyrliart  ; 

ll»»lu!i  ii.  i  \virt«»c7.ku>  spit.  —  KAIJAMSIX. 

Tlirr*1,  i!i  tin-  un-rn  sirass,  s«»ftly  rrjK«s«'s, 
Cloxr  |.\    fns  «'i«'ar  littlt-  !ov«-  iriL*.  tin-  ronv  ; 
Tin  r«'  tin1  «l«>v«-  slrrs  <n:  thr  lumuh. 


Nr.AR   Moskva's  strrnni,  tlinui^h  hcatli  and  forest. 

jrUjlinjr, 

Deep  in  a  river  vale,  l>y  inoa«l«w  groon, 
Embowered  in  l»eec-li,  a  lonely  /liureh  is  seen, 
Like  timid  lawn  in  dewy  thicket  hiding. 

.Al-ove  its  roof,  a  Grecian  erosslet,  shining, 
Points  to  the  pious  serf  his  heavenward  way; 
Around  it  spreads,  hestrown  with  hlossoms  <jay, 

The  field,  where  wearied  hearts  are  safe  reclining. 


S  L  A  V  O  XI  A  .  131 

O'er  swelling  graves,  the  l>onnding  rahhit  plays  ; 

All  breathes  of  peace  and  gentleiiemi  around  ; 

Light  steals  the  maiden  l>y ;  subdued  each  sound; 
Rven  fainter  glances  there  the  evening  Ma/e. 

There,  nestling  side  hy  side,  at  twilight's  close, 

Soft  cuo  the  hilling  doves,  and  then  repose. 


II. 


Tarn  wi«li«'l  nory  n:ul  Mo?niiuf 

I  Kpras/iwal.  koti»n»y   wirk 

Z:istul  i«-li  w  m..!"-|,.s'i  sus/rzicli. — DMITIUKV. 

TlH-ri1  I  saw  »|H»V«*  in*'  mountains, 
A ntl   I   ask»-«l  4»|  tin-in,  what  c»:iitury 
Met  them  in  their  youth. 

INSIMKIXO  Spirit!  thon  art  every  where — 
The  forest,  and  the  desert ;  ocean's  hreast ; 
The  ice-peak,  where  the  condor  htiilds  his  nest ; 

The  plain  ;  the  hill  ;  the  vale — thon  still  art  there. 

'Tis  not  alone  on  /ion's  holy  height, 

Nor  on  Parnassus,  thon  hast  reared  thy  shrine: 
Thy  kindling  voice  and  energy  divine 

Are  felt  in  realms  of  old  Cimmerian  night. 

Hy  Volga's  princely  stream,  thy  fiery  car 

Uplifts  the  gifted  soul,  that  owns  thy  sway, 
Aloft,  above  the  gilded  dome  of  Tzar — 


132  8  LA  VON' I  A. 

O'er  boundless  steppes  and  dusky  wilds  away, 
O'er  castled  hill,  when?  reigns  the  proud  Hoyar, 
Free,  amid  slaves,  he  mounts  to  meet  thy  day. 


Trrprtiu  li   nowi   wrnri   na   na*7.oj  *na*7.i  * 
Wijc   li  s«-  mien   li;irj;ik   na<!   tnihiii   kitniiHii  ? 
J(>ll    Zlirawo    k.  ill    /.«  !•  II'M>    JMM!    l|tl.u!o/.V<l  tin  ' 

N  *K.  Sitr.  PJKMM. 

TrnnMo  not  ww-wovm  c:irl:un!s  thrrr  «»n  our  sislrr? 
\Vavrs  not  tli««  oriniM»n  lianu«-r  ovi-r  iln«  Np-uiMor  '. 
l»  ii-A  strong  t!u*  «laj»j»!»'-^ray  UIK!«T  lh«*  bnii^riMiiii  ? 

"  WHAT  is  tliat  ilcwcuifiiig  yonder  mountain  ? 

Waves  the  At^a's  erimson  (la«r  afar  ? 

Comes  the  Turkish  wolf  to  vvaije  us  war? 
Or  does  shepherd  lead  his  flock  to  fountain  ? 

Yonder  see  the  weddinjj-hanner  living — 
Garlands  waving  in  tin   maiden's  hair — 
O !  how  tall  and  slender,  fresh  and  fair — " 

So  the  long  expectant  train  is  crying. 

Give  this  happy  day  aloose  to  joy — 

Glad  the  heart  with  instrument  and  song — 
Flit,  with  maiden  dear,  in  dance  along — 

Let  nor  care  nor  thought  your  hliss  annoy  ! 
Under  slavery's  chain  the  hosom  swells— 
There,  the  fount  of  gentle  feeling  wells. 


SLA  VON  I  A.  • 


IV. 


Piekny  to  wjdok  Cr.ertomelik'i, 

Sto  uyMp  pr/er/.'iiely   Dniepni 

Jlr/o/a  sii'  kapie  w  k:i/Myin  Mrmnykti, 

SlyHiac  s/wn  tr%ciny(  sl«»\vika  pienie. — SI.OWACKI. 


How  Itcniitiful  this  view  «»f  C7.«>rt<»in«>!ik ' 

'I'll'-  I  >nu  ]>••!'•<  streams  <!i\i'!«-  n  (iMiidrcil  ishirxls ; 
In  every  stream  the  dirrlt  tree  <!i;is   its  hraneliew ; 
VVe  Jii-ar  tin*  innriii'ir in:-  renl,  ami  ni^lit-t»ir<!  \\.ir!-Iiii'4. 


STILL  Sprinjj  returns,  ami  scatters  wiilu  its  roses; 
TlH3  nightingale  in  l<;afy  thicket  »iiiKs» 
Ami    heavenward    mounts  the   lark   on   (juiver- 
injj  win^s ; 

In  flowrry  pomp  tho  silent  plain  reposes. 

Nature  is  still  the  same,  unchnnjrinjj  ever ; 
She  hrin<rs  her  fjilts  with  each  retiirninw  year, 
Ami  lavish  pours  her  horn  of  plenty  here, 

Hy  castled  hill  and  silver-sheeted  river. 

Still,  lordly  Dnieper  rolls  as  wild  and  free, 

As  when  the  Polish  hanner  graced  its  shore— 
That  banner  waves  alonjj  its  hanks  no  more ; 

Through  isles  as  green  it  seeks  the  I'ontic  sea. 
Nature  is  ever  free! — Why  should  the  brave 
And  noble  heart  of  Poland  sink — a  slave  f 
12* 


134  S  I,  A  V  O  N  I  A  . 


V. 


(*<!i.  ma  inila.  L'<!I  do  Irsa  ; 
1  *o«ijwry  *«•  K«%!I  rosa  : 
Kosyczka  tf"  pirkn.i  l»jl:», 

Iv'o-'i-    i!  i    nj    r.i-m  uvn  i. 

Hmlr  K)  7.jt  mos;«'  iini.i  —  O,KJ*K.  NAR. 


<•«>,  my  «l«*arrMt,  t4>  tin*  w«»<»i!  ; 
Si-r  it  siill  ilir  •!«•«   i^  ih.-rr: 
l^»vi-ly    is  tin-  rnrly   «!«  w  ; 
In  it  iirows  tlu-  nisriniry  ; 
Tlmu  slutlt  on  It  Itvr,  liiV  love. 


Bv  Mtiltlava  trips  a  rosr-lipjxMl  maiden — 

SIio  has  crowiuvl  lu-r  hat  with  Miiitiiiior  flowers : 
Krosh  ami  i!««\vy  as  tlu»  I;U»|«M!  Hours, 

There  she  trips  aloti£,  with  hlossoms  laden. 

How  the  valley  with  her  voirt*  is  riii»iii«;, 
Kike  the  rvriiinij  soiMjstrr's,  s«»lt  and  clear; 
In  lier  happy  eve  a  sparkling  te:ir — 

Slic  a  simple  Cheskian  lay  is  sinoinir. 

O  !  how  strong  the  U>v<»  ofeouufry  glows 
In  the  peasant's  heart,  when. all  is  jjono, 
Kin«j  and  state,  his  lanp;ua^e  left  -done, 

Blooming  still,  as  over  graves  the  rose. 

From  his  hosom  pours  the  stream  of  .song, 
Full,  in  artless  melodv,  alomj. 


SLAVONTA. 

PART    11. 

RUSSIA. 
I. 

Nirxto ' — no  Ty  wo  iitnif  wijar«4» 

WHirz-MtMMiii  Twoi.  li  <M»rol; 

Wo  mine  NI»III;<  r/.oVr/.'ai'M/.. 

Kuk  sol  mi?  w  Illlloy  kaplir  wo.!.— DKR7.HAVIN. 

Nolliini! ' — 'wit  ihou  sliinrst  in  im-  \vjtli  lh»-  in:ij«-s»y  «»f  f}»vp»»o«!. 
IH-H.H;  in  me  tlu>u  inia^-.st  lliy.srll,  lik«,-  tin-  «un  in  a  httlr  «lro|>  of 
walrr. 

STII.I.  l»urns  th«»  proplii'l's  fin»T  ns  whm  of  olil 
Klijuli  nilliMl,  on  ('urnifK  on  tin'  nauir, 
Tin-  our  sol<?  iianif%  and  sr<« !   it  mounts  in  flame 

Just  on  the  limits  of  eternal  cold. 

Pure,  !>ri^Jt.  ami  full  it  swells— a  sac-roil  jjl»w 
Rolls  <MT  tlie  spotless  wilderness  of  snow, 
And  floating  flakes  of  crystal  Imrn  as  g«;ms, 
Worthy  to  shine  in  angels'  diadems : 


1  36  8  L  A  V  O  N  I  A  . 

And   then,   in   sounding   tones,  come    thoughts   of 

power, 

Full  of  sublimity  ami  truth  and  awe — 
Thunders  in  majesty  the  unyielding  law  ; 

Relenting  grace  descends  in  healing  shower. 

We  feel  as  nothing  in  the  infinite  : 

We  Icel  (hat  infinite  within  our  souls — 
Away  the  cloud  of  douht  and  darkness  rolls  ; 

Our  spirits  stand,  assured  and  free,  in  light. 


II. 

prli  \vy  Husk'iV-  do!.ry«'  iimlmlry ! 

Nadirwaytr  \vy  saMi  vvostryia, 

t'zto  idrt  zUxliry  n;t  stualujtl  Rust. — SllfLRI'XlKov 

IIi\v  !  !>rav««  Russian  youths, 

(Jird  ymr  s\vt>nls  so  k»vn. 

For  your  lu»ly  land  tho  fin-  invades. 

NOT  tlje  trumpet  calls  to  fight — 
Louder  calls  the  patriot  T/ar. 

Strongly  nrmed  with  sword  and  right, 
We  rush  to  war. 


Treads  the  Frank  our  holy  land, 
Hy  the  world-invader  led — 

Soon  we  make  the  ruffian  hand 
Its  gory  bed. 


8  I.  A  V  O  N  I  A  .  1  37 

Moscow's  fire,  an  altar  flame., 

Lights  us  through  a  waste  of  snow- 
On,  through  ice,  w<%  chase  the  «jame 
With  fervid  j^low. 

Louder  than  the  trumpet's  peal, 
Kin«r*  the  voice  of  patriot  T/.ar— 

With  fierv  hearts  ;ind  flashing  steel, 
We  rush  to  war. 


8  Kit  VI  A. 

I. 

:»  wa!«'ii«  rarstxvo, 
A  nrU-sko  u  \vt-k  i  <lo  urka.— X.  S.  P.  (T/.AR  LAXAR.) 

Sjnal!  and  transient  is  an  r.irtlilv  kingdom, 
Itu*  tin*  lifav«>n!y  is  now  anil  ever. 

"  Go  forth,  and  ask  no  Messing  on  thy  sword — 
(•o  forth,  and  rush  uj>on  the  turhaned  ioe  ; 
Strong  he  the  hand,  that  deals  the  deadly  Mow; 

That  hand  shall  scatter  wide  the  Turkish  horde. 

Thine  shall  he  earthly  power  and  fame  ;  hut  know, 
The  «»:ites  of  Heaven  shall  ever  on  thee  close- 
in  vain,  for  thee,  the  stream  of  mercy  (lows; 

For  thou  hast  chosen  thy  good,  thy  all  below. 


.'  8  I.  A  V  O  X  I  A  . 

Pause  on  the  field,  anil  hem!  thyself  in  prayer  ; 
Yielil  reverently  unto  thy  (»od  ami  Lord; 
Listen  the  hopes  and  terrors  of  his  \vord  ; 
Thou  thou  shalt  fall — thy  hetter  lot  is  there — 
Thy  crown   shall   he   in    II raven."      lie   knelt   and 

prayed  ; 

He    inarched  and  fought,  and    low    in  death    was 
laid. 


II. 


SrMi  wirzii :  /a  wjmi  ris/.fiun.vku, 
1  za  slawii  imma  Srjntktiga  ! — .V  S.  P. 

Cry  tin-  SrrviatiH  :  f«»r  tin-  faith  of  Christians, 
Aiul  tin'  .clory  of  tin1  nainr  of  StTViw  ! 

l 


FOR  faith  am!  fame :  he  that  the  cry — 
We  have  our  pride,  and  we  our  fame- 
Heroes  of  high  and  mighty  name, 

On  thousand  fields  of  battle  liv*. 

Long  centuries  we  in  arms  have  stood  ; 
Have  kept  our  faith,  when  others  fell: 
The  Turk  might  crush ;  he  could  not 

Our  covenant  we  have  scaled  in  blood. 


«  I,  A  V  O  N  I  A  . 

Our  land  is  free  —  the  cross  alone 

Shines  oYrour  vales,  ami  crowns  our  bills 
Tlit*  peasant  reaps  tin*  soil  he  tills; 

The  Moslem  vultures  far  have  flown. 

Again  they  ronn*  —  likr  c'louds  of  ni|^htf 
Tlirv  hani^  alonj^  yon  mountain's  l»ro\v. 
Kiso,  Servians!  —  !»«•  hrrni'M,  now  — 

This  !>«•  th^  last  and  fatal  li 


Hark  to  the  rliarjji?  !  —  their  Allahn  — 
It  rinjjs,  not  ours  —  it  rin^s  tlirir  knell. 

Rush  to  the  shork,  and  hurstin^  through, 
L«-ave  not  a  Turk  tlie  tale  to  tell. 


POLAND. 


!'  m  olilat 
Juk  w  mu'M'M',  kton>  ralkifin  wy'»ij«"  7.ar.»/;if 


>firKIK\V 


Now,  Mark-\»inu'«Ml  vulturrs  Imvrr  ov 
AM  HI  u  t«»\\n,  l>y  wiistiia'  planur  ronsoiiH 
\Vavi»  i-.vrr  lum-rjil-1'anin  r.s  on  tin-  walls. 


THOU  stnndest  ns  a  castle,  on  n  rock, 
Dismantled,  dark  —  the  hospitahle  llamc 
No  longer  lights  its  halls  ;  unknown  to  fame, 

The  simple  shepherd  shelters  there  his  flock. 


1  tO  SLA  VOX  I  A. 

With  tniwpet-peal  its  gilded  arches  rung; 

l-'orth  from  its  juntos,  the  lordly  champions  rode 
IJannered  ami  helmed,  tin*  •.lax/ling  torrent  flowed 

On  tower  ami  keep,  the  royal  standard  hung. 

A  tiro  has  swept  along  those  festive  halls; 
ISroken  and  toppling,  reel  the  hlaekened  walls  ; 

The  voice  of  love  and  hope  and  joy  is  gone. 
Like  funeral-llajjst,  th<«  raven  spreads  his  \vitij£s  ; 
In  rhainluTs,  once  the  proud  ahode  of  kinj^s, 

Now  dwell  the  lizard  and  the  owl  alone. 


II. 


Zomsta  pospicrh  r»<!7.i. 
Juz*  p<^jecha!i — NiocKioh  Hog  j>n>w;u!zi. — SLOWACKI. 


Already  they  are  gone — may  CUM!  conduct  them. 

VENGEANCE  calls  yon!  quick,  he  ready— 
Rouse  ye,  in  the  name  of  (»od. 
Onward,  onward  !  strong  and  steady — 
Dash  to  earth  the  oppressor's  rod. 

Vengeance  calls!  ye  brave,  ye  brave! 
Rise,  and  spurn  the  name  of  slave. 


S  L  A  V  O  N  I  A  . 

Grasp  I]M*  sunn! ! — its  edge  is  keen; 
Seize  flic  gun  f — its  Nail  is  true  ; 

Sweep  your  land  from  tyrants  clean 

Haste,  and  scour  it  through  and  through 
Otiward,  onward  ! — vengeance  cries. 
Kush  to  arms — the  tyrant  Hies. 

Uy  the  souls  of  patriots  gone, 

Wake — arise — your  fetters  hreak  ! 
»See  !    Koscius/ko  hids  you  on — 
Hark,  Sohieski  erics,  awake,! 

Ivise,  and  front  the  despot  O/ar— 
Ivise,  and  dare  the  unequal  war. 

Vengeance  calls  you  !  quick,  he  ready — 

Think  of  what  your  sires  have  heen. 
Onward,  onward  !   strong  and  steady- 
Drive  the  tyrant  to  his  den. 

On,  and  let  the  watchword  ho : 
Country,  home,  and  liberty ! 


13 


142  SLA  VOX  I  A. 

UOHKMfA. 
I. 


\Vyn»stla  mnif  I'jia  ruo?.Y,  en  j:i  trim! 
Ml!t>ua!a  »S«MU  Wrnclirzka,  \%  >••  inilouaT  n« 

.  N\R. 


Full  for  ni«*  the  rose  has  ot*'w<K  !mt  I  will  not  plurk  tlir  roxp  ; 
1  have  iiivrn  my  In-art  to  \\Vnsiy,  l.ut  I'll  K»v«-  tin-  youtli  no  HM»ro. 

THK  rose  now  Mooins  —  '\vitli  love  my  !>osom  heaves; 

It  fades  and  \\  illiers  —  sorrow  chills  my  !u*urt  : 
The  cold  rains  trickle  o'er  the  faded  loaves- 

Tears  from  their  secret  fount  unhidden  start.  . 

The  dewy  morning  rises  fresh  and  fair  — 
Hope  comes  again  to  wake  my  love  am-w  : 

\Yith  hlooms  of  May  the  maiden  wreaths  h<»r  hair  ; 
Joy  swells  my  heart,  as  swells  the  rose  with  dew. 

Thus  (lows  the  Cheskian  song  —  the  song  thus  flows, 
In  Servians  vales,  on  Russia's  houndlcss  plains, 
Hy  Visla's  hanks,  unfettered  or  in  chains, 

"NYhere'cr  tlie  pure  Slavonian  spirit  glows. 
Ages  have  rolled  away,  yet  still  remain 
The  seeds,  that  time  and  force  have  crushed  in 
vain. 


KLAVONIA.  H3 


II. 


K<!«»«'  >r««ti«  Ho/*) 

A  7.ak«m;i    «-h«>. —  /I/.K  ». 


Vr  warriors  of  CUM!,  sm«l  of  his  law. 

A  HOLY  feeling  leads  them  on  ; 

For  (MM!  their  swords  they  draw: 
Their  chief,  the  fearless  champion 

Of  (lod,  and  of  his  law. 

Not  theirs,  the  strength  of  mortal  fight — 
Keligion  nerves  their  hands: 

They  lift  their  arms  for  truth  and  right ; 
For  faith,  each  warrior  stands. 

The  ardent  hymn,  the  solemn  prayer, 

Instead  of  trump  and  drum, 
Toll  to  their  enemies  :  "  Hewarc  ! — 

The  sacred  legions  come." 

With  brow  serene  and  steady  eye, 
Firm  foot  and  measured  tread — 

"  I  hiss  !"  bursts  at  once  the  battle  cry — 
"His  blood  for  truth  was  shed." 


144  81.  A  VON!  A. 

And  loud,  as  pealing  thunder,  breaks, 
From  thousand  hearts,  their  liytnn  : 

Headlong  they  rush — earth  'ncath  them  shakos- 
Smoke  rolls — the  day  is  dim. 

"  Huss  !"  swells  tlie  cry,  and  Xi/.ka's  shout 

Kings  through  the  roar  of  war. 
The  foe  recoils — he  hreaks  in  rout, 

And  scatters  wide  and  far. 

"  Glory  to  God !"  the  victory  song — 

"  Praise  him — the  field  is  won. 
Ho  only  makes  the  warrior  strong. 

His  will — his  will  be  done  !" 


TEUTONIA. 


[Under  this  head  !•  grouped  ft  number  of  pieces,  which,  by  the  struc 
ture  of  their verse,  if  not  by  their  sty!*'  and  manner,  are,  in  char 
acter,  German.  The  stanza,  in  each,  is  funned  on  th«'  model 
indicated  liy  tlie  inutto  prefixed.  In  the  third  and  fifth,  the  rhythm 
of  the  air  is  observed,  nil h«T  than  that  of  the  original  verse.] 


HOPE. 

IIofTnung,  IIofTniing,  immer  griin — HERDER. 
Hope,  Hope,  forever  green — 

DARK  before  me  lies  my  way: 

Not  a  blossom  by  it  springs ; 

Not  a  bird,  on  sunny  wings, 
Hovers  round,  and  tunes  bis  lay. 
On  it  stretcbes,  wild  and  lone ; 

Cbill  tbe  wind  is  whistling  there ; 
Gone  tbe  light  that  early  shone ; 

Vanished  long,  the  young  and  fair. 


TKTTONIA. 

As  with  heaving  heart,  I  tread 

Silent  onward,  heaven  uncloses; 

Hope  descends  on  clouds  of  roses  ; 
Instant  all  my  gloom  lias  lied. 
Like  an  overs  \\  riling  river, 

Kouwl  her  flows  a  stream  of  light  : 
Radiant  pinions  o'er  it  quiver; 

Countless  joys  are  there  in  flight. 

But  a  moi'ient — drirk  again. 

Dark  an«l  ilreary,  slmts  the  sky: 

Heavy  eiouds  ahove  me  lie; 
Round  me  clings  an  icy  chain. 
O  !  could  hut  a  single  ray 

Cllcam  from  cottage  lamp  or  star, 
Then,  along  my  lingering  way, 

I  could  seek  my  home  atar. 

Hark !   what  low  and  distant  note 

JSoltly  through  the  gloom  is  stealing? — 
With  it  comes  a  voice  of  healing; 

Sounds  of  heaven  around  me  float. 

Light,  like  vernal  dawn,  ascending, 
O'er  new  wakened  hcauty  plays  ; 

Flowers,  with  feathered  foliage  blending, 
Tremble  in  the  golden  blaze. 


TKHTONIA.  147 

Soiin  MIP  ftootlting  voire  i*  still  ; 

f  'roods  tli*1  silewr  of  the  j^rave  : 

OVr  ?w  shades  of  rypress  waver; 
Darker  fi-ars  my  liosorn  fill. 
Tims  must  ever  In-  my  'loom  — 

!,ii'ht  afiil  SOMJ;  a  mornr  it  s}ir»fj  ; 
Thru  ?»  rloiu!  iif  iliTjM-r  <;!')f»jii 

I'ollrfl,  lik«?  torn-nf,  oVr  !iiy  Ii'-arl. 


"     JMTI    ti«-o  on     —  n  M\v*'ct«- 

I  l«»|ii',  Mir  yomii*1  :md  lov«-!v  «-V«T, 
I'rr.-iflii-s  —  tin-  sonu  shrill  |r:ivr  m 

"  SjM-i-il  ||MM-!  —  soon  ihv  iiiyht.  has  Mown 

All  tin-  li^'ht,  thr  |ov««,  th"  hli.ss, 
l/i-r  in  liolic.st  vision  «(iv«'ii, 

In  a  fairt-r  worl'I  than  this, 

<!r«M?t  thro  soon  —  ihv  horn^r  is 


SKATING. 


Wir  j.'l'-it«-n,  o  flrii«!«-r,  rnif  frolili^hrrn  Sinn 
Aul  .Sl»-rn»-M_^-{i!il.  ii  il.i-i  !.«•  MTI  it.iiun.  —  ifKRDKR. 

\V«-  ^'liH*-,  O*  l)roffior<,  in  rh'-f-rful  play, 
O'«-r  starry  fi«.-M.«i,  turo'Jgii  li!«-  away. 

WE  spofd  o'er  the  star-lighted  mirror  alonir, 

And  the  wood  and  th«*  mountain  re-echo  our  sonsr. 


M8  TKUTOXIA. 

As  on,  liko  tho  wing  of  the  eai»lo,  we  swoop, 
Xo\v  gliding,  now  wheeling,  we  ring  oYr  the  (loop. 
Tho  winds  whistle  keenly — tho  rod  chork  is  warm, 
And  there's  none,  who  would  yiold  not   his  breast 
to  tho  storm. 

Tho  stars  aro  ahovo  us,  so  full  ami  so  bright, 

And  tho  mirror  holow  us  is  gemmod  with  ihoir  light. 

Liko  tho  f:ir-whooliug  hawk,  in  iho  niid  air  wo  My; 

A  sky  is  ahovo  us — holow  us  a  sky. 

As  onward  wo  «lido  in  our  raoo,  wo  koop  time  ; 

And  oloar  as  tho  morning  hell,  oolioos  our  chime. 

By  pino-covorod  rook,  and  by  willow-hound  shore, 
Breast  ovon  with  breast,  liko  a  torrent  we  pour. 
Short,  quick  aro  our  strokes,  as   we  haste  to  the 

mark. 

And  shrill  is  our  cry,  as  the  trill  of  tho  lark. 
The  iroal  is  now  reached,  and  wo  bend  us  away, 
\Vide  wheeling,  or  curving  in  fanciful  play. 

How    fondly    I    loved,    when    my   life-blood    was 

young — 
When   buoyant    my  heart,  and   my   limbs    newly 

strung"— 
When  the  friends  of  my  childhood  were  round  me 

and  near— 
O'er  the  dark  lake  to  sweep  in  our  sounding  career; 


TEUTON' I  A,  Ml) 

Awl  high  heat  my  soul,  with  enthusiast  glow. 
As  n  clear-ringing  music  was  pealing  below. 

We  heeded  no  danger — we  carelessly  flew 
O'er  n  deep,  that  in  darkness  was  lost  to  our  view; 
And  onward  we  rushed,  in  the  heat  of  our  strife, 
As,  o'er  danger  and  ruin,  we  hurry  through  life. 
So  we  sped  in  our  flight,  as  on  pinions  along. 
And  the  wood  and  the  mountain  re-echoed  our  song. 


THK  CHARGE. 

Wohl.-vjf  Kamrrailm.  aufs  1'frnl,  ftufs  Pfi*nl ! 
IiiK'FYM,  in  «h«- Fivyhi-it  ••«•»•£••«••— SCHILLER. 

Aronsr  y«\  inv  contrail's — to  lior*«',  to  horse! 
To -I  tic  firlil,  ami  to  fr«v«l«»m,  iulvaiH'in^. 

THE  horn  and  the  trumpet  are  ringing  afar, 

As  the  summons  to  hattle  is  sounding; 
Ami  the  steed,  as  lie  eatehes  the  signal  of  war, 

In  the  pride  of  his  spirit  is  hounding. 
Shrill  it  echoes  afar,  over  hill  and  o'er  plain, 
And  the  wide  distant  mountains  repeat  it  again; 
And  the  shout  of  the  warrior,  and  nearer  the  song, 
Peal  aloud, as  the  glittering  hands  are  hurrying  along. 
As  on,  on,  on,  on,  pours  the  tide  of  fight, 
Still  aloft  floats  the  tossing  flag,  in  the  glance  of 
morning's  light. 


1 50  TEUTON*  IA. 

We  leap  to  our  saddles,  we  range  us  in  line, 

As  the  voice  of  the  trumpet  is  calling. 
O'er  the  crown  of  yon  ridge,  bright  their  drawn 

sabres  shine  ; 

Down  its  slope,  like  a  flood,  they  arc  falling. 
"  Give  the  spur — to  the  charge— ere  the  foe  man  is 

nigh: 

Rush  amain,  as  the  forest  rings  loud  with  your  cry: 
Speed  on  to  the  shock,  in  his  midway  career — 
For  our  sires  still   wore   first  in  light;  they  never 

thought  of  fear !" 

So  on,  on,  on,  on,  o'er  the  sounding  plain, 
To  the  wild  conflict  fierce   they  rush,  and  together 
dash  amain. 


THE  WILD  HUNTER. 
Es  kam  dio  NaHit  grzojren— SriiRKiBER. 

WHAT  gloomy  shapes  are  bending, 

In  darkness,  o'er  the  plain  ? 
The  distant  hills  ascending, 

Behold  !  they  sweep  amain. 
The  rock  and  the  forest  re-echo  the  sound 
Of  horn  and  of  trumpet,  of  horse  and  of  hound- 
Hurra  !   with  horn  and  hound, 
The  rocks  and  woods  resound. 


TEUTON*  I  A.  151 

lie  hurries  on  affrighted, 

The  wanderer,  through  the  gloom. 
Alone  by  flashes  lighted, 

lie  hurries  to  his  doom! 
Then  it  rolls  from  afar,  like  the  eehoing  peal 
Of  the  storm,  and  the  mountain  tops  quiver  and 

reel — 

The  quivering  mountains  reel, 
As  hursts  the  echoing  peal ! 

"And  whither  art  thou  flying, 

Thou  wanderer,  on  thy  way  ? 
The  heavy  wind  is  sighing, 

And  see,  the  lightnings  play." 

"  But  hark,  from  the  heart  of  the  deep-rolling  eloud, 
The  horn  of  the  huntsman  is  ringing  aloud — 
From  the  deep-rolling  eloud, 
The  horn  rings  long  and  loud." 

"  And  why  so  wildly  straying  ? — 

Seest  not,  on  yonder  height, 
Around  the  white  walls  playing, 

The  mellow  evening  light  ?" 
"  In  terror  I  haste  from  that  castle  away ; 
There  wildly  the  hounds  of  the  dark  hunter  bay — 
The  hounds  there  wildly  bay ; 
In  fear  I  haste  a  way !" 


1 52  T  E  U  T  O  X  I A  . 

"  Unreal  dreams  affright  thec  ; 
\\ild  visions  liniin!  thy  soul. 
AVouldst  thoti  'mid  rocks  hcnight  thce, 

When  near  flu;  thunders  roll '?" 

"  The  stooils  arc  in  chase,  ami  the  hay  of  the  houiul, 
KOCH  scenting  my  track,  is  now  ju-aliti^  around — 
Tin*  hollow  hay  of  hound 
Peals  awfully  around !" 

In  wild  despair  retreating 

Hefore  tin*  gathering  host, 
Through  rock  and  forest  lleeting, 

lie  mutters — lost!   lost!   lost! 

Then  the  storm  hursts  ahove  him  with  echoing  peal ! 
And  around  him  the  troops  of  the  wild  hunter  wheel — 
As  hursts  the  echoing  peal, 
Around  they  dash  and  wheel ! 

And  swift  the  host,  advancing. 

Beneath  their  thundering  tread, 
The  rocks  and  trees  are  dancing; 

Their  hlades  flash  keenly  red. 
The  woods  how  he  fore  them  ;  the  dill's  crack,  and 

pour 

Their  avalanche  prone,  'mid  the  rush  and  the  roar— 
The  dill's  loud  crackling  pour, 
Amid  the  rush  and  roar ! 


TEUTON  IA.  153 

TTow  sweetly  dawns  the  morning! 

The  fearful  night  \%  gone. 
YUM  chapel  bell  its  warning 

Kings  faintly  all  alone. 

On  the  bree/e,  as  it  curls  over  meadow  and  lake, 
Breathes  the  voice,  of  tlu;  liinl  from  her  nest  in  the 

I)  rake, 

'Ami  floating  far  away, 
Welcomes  the  peaceful  day! 


THK  HUNTER  DEATIf. 

Irh  ha!»*  »-in«f  Wi«-^<-  so  Nrhrnurk  t.n«!   nc-tt — ScimtnT. 

I  AM  a  boM  hnntor — my  hunt  is  wide ; 

I  mount  in  tin-  morning,  and  swift  I  ride  ; 

O'er  vale,  o'er  hill,  I  speed  away, 

Arid  pause  not,  rest  not,  through  the  long,  long  day. 

My  string  is  of  sinew,  my  how  is  long, 
And  sharp  is  my  arrow,  my  arm  is  strong : 
I  point  my  shaft  with  deadly  aim  ; 
It  whi//es,  pierces — then  it  hums  like  flame. 

And  I  have  a  carabine,  slung  on  my  hack — 
It  rings  through  the  forest  with  startling  crack  ; 
14 


1 51  T  E  U  T  O  X  I  A  . 

Like  thunder  crash,  it  echoes  round, 

And  jarring,  quivering,  'neath  it  shakes  the  ground. 

And  sure  is  the  foot  of  my  coal-black  steed ; 
Ever  onward  he  rushes  with  lightning  speed : 
lie  snufl's  in  every  wind  the  prey, 
Then  high  exulting,  wildly  bursts  away. 

And  keen  is  the  scent  of  my  well-trained  pack  ; 
Through  wood  and  through  thicket  they  keep  the 

track  ; 

The  game  his  subtlest  nrt  may  try — 
It  aids  not,  boots  not ;  quick  the  hounds  are  by. 

I  sound,  on  my  clanging  horn,  his  knell, 
And  fiercely  they  answer  with  howl  and  yell  : 
They  plunge  through  swamp,  they  dash  through 

Hood, 
Yet  wilder  rages,  hot,  their  thirst  for  blood. 

One  hound  is  jet  black,  and  I  call  him  War ; 

And  his  strong  limbs  arc  spotted  with  wound  and 

scar  ; 

His  eye  is  red — like  coal,  its  fire, 
Arid  ever  sleepless,  burns  his  demon  ire. 

Another  close  follows,  with  hoarser  din, 
Coarse-featured  and  shaggy — I  call  him  Sin  : 


T  K  U  T  O  X  I  A  .  1 55 

Blood-shot  his  eye — his  froth  is  blue, 

And  drips  its  venom  thick,  like  poison  dew. 

Another  is  sallow,  and  gaunt  of  limb; 

His  lips  are  pale,  and  his  eye  is  dim  : 

I  call  him  Famine — hut  he  is  strong, 

And  swift,  yet  silent,  sweeps,  like  night,  along. 

So  with  twanging  bow,  and  with  clanging  horn, 

To  dusk  of  night,  from  break  of  morn, 

On  coal-black  steed,  1  speed  away, 

And  pause  not,  rest  not,  through  the  long,  long  day. 


THE  BARD. 
Was  hor'  ich  draussen  vor  dorn  Thor — GCETHE. 

THE  bard  sits  lonely  in  the  hall, 
His  cherished  harp  beside  him. 

From  friend  so  dear,  whatever  befall, 
No  moment  can  divide  him. 

Erect  and  calm,  he  sits  alone — 

The  only  friend,  he  feels  his  own, 
His  cherished  harp  beside  him. 


106  TEUTONMA. 

A  pageant  throng  now  fills  the  hall- 
There  beauty  darts  her  glances, 

And  mingled  voices  joyous  call 
For  song  and  wine  and  dances. 

He  sits  apart  from  all  the  train — 

The  song  and  dance  invite  in  vain  ; 
Unfelt  are  beauty's  glances. 

The  present  has  no  charms  for  him— 
The  distant  only  wakes  him. 

Where  hoarv  eld  lies  dark  ami  dim, 
A  living  spirit  takes  him. 

Unbidden  to  life's  banquet,  he 

Wide  wanders,  all  alone,  yet  free, 
As  ancient  glory  wakes  him. 

The  song  is  swelling  in  the  hall, 
Loud  music  clangs  around  him, 

When  quick,  as  touched  by  lightning,  fall 
The  chains  that  silent  bound  him. 

lie  throws  his  hand  athwart  his  strings  ; 

A  clear  sweet  tone,  preluding,  rings  ; 
His  Genius  hovers  round  him. 

The  song  is  hushed  ;  the  clang  is  still  ; 

Spell-bound,  they  pause  to  hear  him  : 
He  bends  and  sways  their  hearts  at  will  ; 

Entranced  they  gather  near  him  : 


T  E  U  T  O  X  I  A  .  1  57 

Full-toned,  yet  soft,  his  measures  roll ; 
They  fill  with  deep  delight  the  soul  : 
They  cannot  choose  hut  hear  him. 

Tin;  hard  has  gone — his  song  is  o'er, 

Yet  still  he  sits  hefore  them. 
lie  wakes  his  magic  harp  no  more; 

Its  tones  still  hover  o'er  them. 
Away  In;  wanders,  sad  and  lone — 
Still  sits  he  there,  as  on  a  throne, 

Erect  and  calm,  hefore  them. 


14* 


SONGS. 


I. 

THK  HOATMAX. 

OUR  oars  keep  time 

In  merry  chime, 
As  light  \vo  pull  to  the  shore. 

Uy  green-wood  tree 

My  home  I  see — 
So  heave !  lor  our  voyage  is  o'er. 

The  golden  day 

Now  fades  away, 
And  red  uprises  the  moon. 

The  water-flake, 

Along  our  wake, 
Is  lost  in  darkness  soon. 

And  west,  afar, 
The  evening  star 


8  O  X  O  8  .  1 59 

Looks  over  the  curling  lake  ; 

And  hark !  my  ear — 

The  shore  is  near — 
Can  hear  the  ripples  break. 

The  window-light 

Now  greets  my  sight — 
My  wife  is  waiting  there. 

Along  the  strand 

I  see  them  stand — 
My  hoys,  so  gentle  and  fair. 

So  pull  away — 
1  hear  them  say  : 
"  Sec  !  yonder,  lather  has  come." 
The  window  is  bright — 

r? 

A  happy  night 
There  '11  be  in  the  boatman's  home. 


II. 
WINTER  EVENING. 

THE  fire  is  burning  eheerly  bright, 
•  The  room  is  snug  and  warm ; 

We  keep  afar  the  wintry  night, 
And  drive  away  the  storm ; 


160 


SONGS. 


And  when  without  the  wanderer  pines, 

And  all  is  dark  and  chill, 
We  sit  securely  by  the  fire, 

And  sparkling  glasses  fill. 

And  ever  as  the  hollow  wind 

Howls  through  the  moaning  trees, 
Strange  feelings  on  the  hod  ing  heart 

With  sudden  dullness  seize : 
Hut  brightly  'blazes  then  the  hearth, 

And  freely  ilows  the  wine  ; 
And  laugh  of  glee,  and  song  of  mirth, 

Then  wreath  their  merry  twine. 

We  think  not  how  the  dashing  sleet 

Beats  on  the  crusted  pane  ; 
We  care  not  though  the  drifting  snow 

Whirls  o'er  the  heath  amain  : 
But  haply,  while  our  hearts  are  bright, 

Far  struggling  through  the  waste, 
Some  traveller  seeks  our  window's  light, 

With  long  and  fruitless  haste. 

Hark  his  halloo ! — we  leave  the  fire, 

And  hurry  forth  to  save : 
A  short  half  hour,  and  he  had  found, 

Beneath  the  snow,  a  grave. 


SONGS.  161 

Pile  on  the  wood — feed  high  the  flame — 

Bring  forth  our  choicest  store ! 
The  traveller's  heart  grows  warm  again  ; 

His  spirit  droops  no  more. 


III. 
EVENING. 

THE  evening  star  is  sparkling  bright, 

And  in  darkness  fades  the  rosy  light : 

How  sweetly  shines  that  evening  star, 

Bright  twinkling  o'er  the  hills  afar. 

The  last  expiring  gleam  of  day, 

The  mellow  twilight,  steals  away ; 

But  soon,  with  full  and  silver  light, 

The  moon  walks  forth  and  cheers  the  night. 

What  softer  feelings  through  mv  soul, 
What  tender,  sweet  emotions  roll ! 
Though  the  light  of  day  is  gone,  is  gone, 
My  love  still  burns  as  brightly  on : 
And  beneath  the  moon  I  rove  along, 
And  low  I  hum  my  own  dear  song ; 
Away  'tis  floating  on  the  air — 
O  !  will  it  reach  my  fair,  my  fair  ? 


16*2  SONGS. 


IV. 


O!  THE  days  of  blooming  youth  are  gone — 
How  swift  the  years  are  hasting  on ! 
My  eye  has  lost  its  lustre  bright ; 
My  flowing  locks  arc  thin  and  white. 
The  blissful  moments  would  not  stay ; 
Like  dreams,  they  glided  quick  away : 
But  still  in  memory  they  remain ; 
Those  happy  hours  are  young  again. 

And  O !  may  they  be  ever  there, 

As  dear  to  me,  as  sweet  and  fair ; 

And  even  till  life's  last  sand  is  run, 

O  !  may  they  flow  as  brightly  on. 

Mv  eve  crows  dim ;  my  pulse  beats  still ; 

Life's  winter  waxes  dark  and  chill : 

But  still  youth's  dreams  are  fresh  and  bright ; 

Still  burns  as  pure  love's  holy  light. 


v. 


O !  HOW  softly  sweet  the  song  is  flowing, 
Softly  flowing  through  the  mellow  air, 

Kind  refreshment  on  my  heart  bestowing, 

Waking  thoughts  that  long  had  slumbered  there. 


SONGS.  1 63 

Then  fond  memory  sweetly  loves  to  bring  me 
Scenes,  that  still  forgotten  long  had  lain ; 

Youth's  emotions,  bright  arid  joyous,  \ving  me 
Lightly  to  the  heaven  of  love  again. 

And  its  earliest  blossoms  have  not  faded — 

Still  they  fill  around  the  sunny  air; 
And  with  bower  of  heavenly  rose  is  shaded 

Still  the  spring  of  joy  that  bubbles  there. 

0 !  when  softly  sweet  the  song  is  flowing, 
Ever  glides  from  me  my  spirit's  chain. 

Then  I  mount,  with  youth's  lirst  passion  glowing1. 
Lightly  to  the  heaven  of  love  again. 


VI. 


THE  night  is  dark ;  the  hollow  wind 
Is  breathing  faint  and  low  : 

Though  loth  to  leave  my  love  behind, 
Perforce  away  I  go. 

Away  o'er  mountain,  and  o'er  moor — 
My  guide,  no  friendly  star ; 

Xo  window  light,  to  lead  me  o'er 
The  heath,  that  spreads  afar. 


1'U 


Though  dark  the  night,  a  darker  shade 
llanos  heavy  round  my  heart. 

I  low  deep  it  sank,  as  eold  she  said 
Those  bitter  words  :  **  We  part  !M 

"  We  part,  and,  ay,  forever  too  : 
My  love  for  tliee  has  gone." 

I  turned,  and  hade  no  last  adieu, 
IJut  wildly  hurried  on. 

O !  on  through  sleet  and  driving  rain, 

Still  let  me  ever  haste; 
Day  hreaks  not  on  my  heart  attain, 

Life  lies  forever  waste. 

Away  o'er  mountain  and  o'er  moor, 
Though  eold  the  gusty  wind  : 

No  light  to  cheer  me  on  hrfore — 
Hope,  love,  all  left  behind  ! 


VII. 


O  !  COME,  loved  Spirit,  come  to  me  : 
My  heart,  my  heart,  invokoth  thoc. 
Though  dark  and  cheerless  broods  my  night, 
Thy  presence  fills  it  all  with  light. 


80  xc.  s.  165 


O !  come,  loved  Spirit,  gently  come  ; 
O!  make  beside  my  heart  thy  home: 
Look  on  iw  with  endearing  smile — 
That  look  shall  all  my  woes  beguile. 

O  !  be  thou  ever,  ever  nigh  ; 
Bend  on  me  thy  complacent  eye : 
Then  shall  my  heart  swell  up  to  thee, 
My  soul  be  large,  my  spirit  free. 

Hear  me  away,  through  sun  and  star, 
To  worlds  of  softest  light  afar: 
Then  bid  my  wearied  evelids  close, 
On  pillowed  flowers,  in  blest  repose. 


WIFE  !  I  am  dying — 
Life  is  departing — 
Soon  I  must  leave  thee- 

Soon  I  am  gone. 
O !  wilt  thou  weep  me, 
When  I  have  left  thee  ? 
O !  wilt  thou  weep  me, 

When  I  am  gone  ? 
15 


1 GG  SONGS. 

If  I  have  ever 

Wronged  thee  or  grieved  thec, 

O !  now  forgive  me,. 

Ere  I  am  gone. 
Sadly  I  rue  it — 
Thou  wilt  forget  it — 
O !  then  forgive  me, 

Ere  I  am  gone. 

Darkness  is  round  me — 
Dimly  I  sec  thee — 
Life  is  just  closing — 

£oon   I  am  gone. 
O  !  thou  wilt  weep  me — 
Truly  wilt   weep  me — 
Yes,  thou  wilt  weep  me, 

When  I  am  uonc ! 


IX. 
EVENING. 

THK  evening  star  now  sparkles  bright ; 

Full  shines  the  rising  moon  ; 
And  fleetly  fades  the  rosy  light 

Around  the  horizon. 


SONGS.  1 67 

The  bosom  swells  with  holy  joy; 

The  heart  heats  soft  and  low  : 
No  longer  care  ami  pnin  annoy ; 

Unchecked  the  feelings  flow. 

The  meadow  hrook  now  dances  light ; 

Its  wave  shines  silver  clear: 
The  stars  arc  dancing  strangely  bright, 

Along  yon  azure  sphere. 
The  nightingale  her  melody 

Trills  lightly  from  the  brake; 
And  trembling  floats,  in  harmony, 

The  moonbeam  on  the  lake. 

The  lovelorn  maiden  listens  long, 

As  trills  the  melody: 
Her  tender  bosom  feels  it  strong  ; 

Her  tears  are  flowing  free. 
She  fondly  thinks  her  lover  then 

Is  serenading  nigh  ; 
And  sadly  sweet  in  dreams  again 

She  sees  him  standing  by. 

O  !  evening  is  the  time  for  me  ; 

He  thine  the  garish  day  : 
My  spirit  is  so  full  and  free, 

As  fades  the  light  away. 


168  SONGS. 

My  bosom  swells  with  holy  joy  ; 

My  heart  beats  soft  and  low  ; 
Ami  Ibmlly  then,  without  annoy, 

My  gentler  feelings  ilow. 


X. 
AWAKK,  MY  LYRE. 

AWAKE,  my  lyre,  awake  ! 

Breathe  aloud  the  choral  strain  ; 
From  thy  heavy  slumber  break  ; 

Wake  to  life  and  joy  again. 

Hark!  how  on  thy  trembling  strings 
Songs  of  hope  and  love  rebound  ; 

Brushed  as  by  an  angel's  wings, 
How  the  vocal  chords  resound. 

Now  thy  long  deep  sleep  has  llown  ; 

Spirit  burns  along  thy  wire  : 
How  the  swelling  peals  roll  on, 

Full,  instinct  with  living  fire. 

O  !  be  silent  never  more  ; 

Soar  to  day's  eternal  blue  ; 
Through  the  solemn  midnight  pour 

Notes  that  fall  like  starrv  dew. 


SONGS.  109 


As  on  eagle's  pinions,  take 

High  to  heaven  thy  sweep  again 

Light  and  music  o'er  us  shake, 
Like  a  shower  of  golden  rain — 

Awake,  my  lyre,  awake! 

Breathe  aloud  the  choral  strain. 


XI. 

HUXTIXO  SOXO. 

6  !  SEE  how  the  red-deer  boundeth, 

As  lie  hear*  the  horn  in  the  morning 
lie  leaps,  as  the  blast  resoundcth, 
In  his  flight  the  hunter  scorning. 
And  away,  away,  ()!  away, 

lie  lltH'ts  through  the  forest  drear: 
Tis  more  wild  freedom's  play, 

Than  the  hurried  speed  of  fear, 
lie  leaps,  as  the  blast  resoundcth, 

In  his  flight  the  hunter  scorning; 
And  away,  away  he  boundeth, 

As  he  hears  the  horn  in  the  morning. 

Then  oho!  oho!  oho! 
Away  to  chase  the  deer — 

Oho  !  oho !  oho ! 
The  free,  the  free  are  here. 
15* 


1 70  SONGS. 

And  on,  through  the  forest  fleeting, 

lie  hies  to  the  rook-built  fountain. 
And  hoars  but  the  echo  retreating 

To  the  dolls  and  glens  of  the  mountain. 
He  stands  by  the  welcome  spring, 
And  looks  in  the  mirror  below — 
When  hark !  through  the  green-wood  ring 

The  horn  and  the  loud  oho ! 
lie  leaps,  as  the  blast  rosoimdoth. 

In  his  flight  the  hunter  scorning  ; 
And  away,  away  lie  boundetb, 

As  he  bears  the  born  in  the  morning. 

Then  oho  !  oho  !  oho  ! 
Away  to  chase  the  deer — 

Oho  !  oho !  oho ! 
The  free,  the  free  are  here. 


XII. 
MEMORY. 

0!  WHEN*  Memory  brings  her  light, 

And  sweetly  calls  me  home, 
Swifter  than  the  swallow's  flight, 
Bright  visions  to  me  come. 
Such  fond  Memory  brings 
On  her  golden  wings— 
O  !  she  brings  them  with  her  light, 
And  sweetly  calls  me  home. 


80X08.  171 

Visions,  veiled  in  roseate  light, 

Then  gently  round  me  throng : 
Softest  tones  of  young  delight, 

« 

Sweet  tones,  forgotten  long. 
Melt  into  my  soul, 
While  with  hlest  control, 
Hopes  and  fancies,  starry  bright. 
Mingle  in  the  song. 

Memory,  he  thou  ever  near 
To  glad  me  on  my  way  : 
Thy  light  to  greet,  thy  voice  to  hear, 
O  !   I  woidd  fondly  stay. 
Days  that  knew  no  shade, 
Ah!  they  never  fade — 
Beams,  from  heaven's  eternal  yenr. 
Still  lightly  o'er  them  play. 


XIII. 
TIIK  GERMAN  EMIGKAXTS  SONG. 

O!  DEUTSC  it  LAND,  our  good  Fatherland, 
Where  grows  the  vine,  along  the  Rhine  ; 

Where  far  the  Alpine  summits  stand. 
And  o'er  the  free-born  Switzcr  shine  ; 

Where  bright  thy  southern  summer  glows, 

Thy  northern  winter  sleeps  in  snows  : 


172  SONGS. 

Thy  pine-clad  hills,  thy  heaths  of  sand, 
All  linked  hy  I'nion's  golden  hand. 
Thou  art  our  Fathers'  Fatherland. 

O!   IVutsehlnnd,  hhie-eyed  Herman's  home— 

Thou,  earliest  five,  thy  liherty 
Hast  sent,  where'er  the  Saxon  roam  ; 

Earth's  new-horn  freedom  sprang  from  thce. 
First  o'er  thy  woods  it  dawned,  nor  yet 
Has  there  its  pure  clftilgence  set  : 

On  to  the  west  still  rolls  the  day, 

O'er  ocean  holds  its  heavenward  way  ; 

Its  Fatherland,  still  thou  for  aye. 

My  Country!   Home,  where  first  I  heard, 
Full,  deep  and  strong,  the  Patriot  song  ; 

First  learnt  to  lisp  the  saered  word, 
As  pealed  the  hell  thy  vales  along — 

Still  with  thee,  faith  and  honour  dwell  ; 

The  oath  we  swear,  we  keep  it  well  :  . 
Nor  needs  our  faith  so  strong  a  token  : 
A  grasp  of  hand,  a  pledge  just  spoken, 
Sure  as  our  hearts,  is  never  hroken. 

0  !   Deutschlanil,  our  own  Fatherland,. 

Though  distant  far,  Thou,  like  a  star, 
Beamcst  on  us  from  the  Frisian  strand  ; 

Our  hearts,  our  loves,  still  centre  there  : 


SONGS.  173 

Still  we  behold  the  purpling- vine, 
Full  clustered,  crown  the  noble  It  him*. — 
O !  may  thy  sons,  by  valour  manned, 
With  earnest  soul,  and  strenuous  hand, 
Strike  lor  thee,  sacred  Fatherland! 


XIV. 
THE  HARPER. 

THE  harper  once  in  Tara's  halls, 

Rung  loud  the  martial  strain  ; 
Nor  were  those  full  and  stirring  notes 

Struck  by  his  hand  in  vain. 
They  roused  the  sons  of  Erin,  far 

To  drive  the  invading  foe  ; 
They  fired  the  heart,  and  nerved  the  hand, 

To  deal  the  avenging  blow. 

In  vest  of  green,  the  harper  sat 

Beside  the  royal  throne  ; 
The  golden  chain,  that  slung  his  harp, 

In  pride  around  him  thrown. 
Wide  through  the  halls  his  music  rang, 

And  warriors  leaped  to  hear ; 
Drew  the  bright  sword,  and  shook  it  high, 

And  tossed  the  beamy  spear. 


174  SOXGS. 

But  Tara's  halls  arc  seen  no  more ; 

In  ruin  low  they  lie : 
The  green  turf  o'er  them  weaves  its  sod  ; 

The  weeds  there  mantle  high- 
Ami  Erin's  sons  no  longer  leap 

To  hear  their  harp's  wild  tone  : 
The  light,  that  o'er  their  country  shed 

Its  beams  from  heaven,  has  lluwn. 

And  sadly  now  the  harper  wends 

To  other  realms  his  way : 
lie  seeks  a  freer,  happier  land, 

Where  Britons  bear  no  sway. 
Then  welcome  here,  with  generous  cheer, 

The  minstrel,  wandering  lone  ; 
And  let  us  ever  hold  him  dear, 

And  prize  him  as  our  own. 


XV. 

THAT  strain  o'  music  greets  my  ear, 

Like  joys  o'  days  departed, 
When  ilka  morniu'  dawn'd  sac  fair, 

An*  fund  me  lightsome  hearted : 
It  tells  o'  loves  that  ance  I  knew, 

O'  een  that  shone  sac  clearly, 
An*  all !  it  minds  me  o*  the  voice 

0'  her  I  loe'd  sac  dearlv. 


soxos.  175 

It  minds  me  o'  the  welcome,  when 
I  met  her  aft  at  gloamin  : 

O 

It  minds  me  o'  the  sweet  fareweeJ, 
When  we  had  lang  been  roamin*. 

It  »s  her  sang — I  ken  it  true  ; 

\ae  ithcr  voice  could  breathe  it ; 

Nane  wi'  sic  artless  melody, 
Sac  woodland  wild,  enwreath  it. 

Flow  gently  on,  thou  sweetest  strain ; 

My  heart  is  fain  to  hear  tliec. 
My  loves  I'll  never  know  again; 

They  dwell  in  heav'n  a'  near  thee. 
An'  yet  the  hopes  o'  ither  days 

Dawn,  as  thou  breathes!  round  me. 
My  spirit  bursts  to  light  an'  lifo, 

Frae  sorrow's  chain  that  bound  me. 

Thou  stealest  to  my  inmost  soul, 

An'  charm'st  awa  my  sadness. 
The  clouds,  that  heavy  round  me  roll, 

Now  break,  an'  a'  is  gladness. 
O  fly  na'  yet !  wi'  lang  delay, 

Still  fondly  linger  near  me— 
Blest  voice  o'  joy  an'  comfort, stay ! 

I'll  never  tire  to  hear  thee. 


1 76  SONGS. 

XVI. 
Ax'  hac  ye  heard  the  bonnic  birds, 

That  sing  sae  sweet  i'  the  birken  sh.iw  ? 

0  ye  may  tell  o'  your  nightingales — 
Thae  bonnic  birds  outsing  them  a'. 

An'  ye  may  tell  o'  the  minstrels  too, 

Wha  tune  their  harps  in  bower  an'  ha' — 

1  better  loe  the  bonnic  birds, 

That  sing  sae  sweet  i'  the  birken  shaw. 

Xac  cushat  ever  saftcr  croods, 

Ainang  the  woods,  her  dyin'  fa\ 
Nae  lav'rock  louder  lilts  at  morn, 

When  inountin'  high  to  heaven's  ha*. 
Xae  gloamiri  win'  aye  sighs  sae  low 

Mang  autumn  leaves  in  birken  shaw  : 
Nae  pibroch  mang  the  mountains  rings 

Wi'  fu'er  swell  its  gatherin'  ca'. 

An'  wha  can  be  the  bonnie  birds, 

That  sing  sac  sweet  i'  the  'lirken-shaw  ? 
Twa  bonnie  lasses  be  thac  birds, 

An'  they  might  sing  in  palace  ha' ; 
Ac  bonnic  lassie  sings  sac  sweet, 

Yc  feel  the  tears  unbidden  fa' ; 
But  tither  starts  yc  to  your  feet, 

An'  stirs  ye  high,  she  sings  sae  braw. 


soxos.  177 

XVII. 
THE  SPIRITS'  LULLABY 

WHE.V  the  night  is  still, 
On  die  moonlit  hill 
We  sink  in  soft  rcj>ose ; 
While  the  cool  winds  sigh, 
And  the  rivulet  nigh 
In  mellow  music  flows. 
Then,  as  in  dreams  we  float  in  light  along, 
Sweet  round  us  breathes  from  heaven  a  cradle  song: 
Slumber!  slumber!  Angels  watch  you  nigh — 
Slumber !  slumber  !  Spirits,  gathering  by, 
Sing  thoir  lullaby. 

» 

Hushed  to  slumber  deep, 

Softly  then  we  sleep, 
And  happy  is  our  dream  : 
Forms  of  beauty  rare 
Float  along  the  air ; 
Their  eyes  how  kindly  beam. 
Then,  as  we  listen,  harps  around  us  play ; 
Gentlest  of  voices  bid  us  come  away : 
Hither — hither,  where  the  heavens  are  bright — 
Hither — hither,  to  this  world  of  light — 

Hither  take  your  ilighi.. 
16 


ITS  SONUS. 

XVIII. 

SOFTLY  flow,  thon  gentle  river, 

Through  the  vale  where  dwells  my  love 
Tell  her,  1  am  constant  ever ; 

Nought  from  her  my  heart  can  move. 
Bear  this  rose-leaf  on  thy  hnsoin, 

I  mane  of  my  constancy  : 
AVaft  it  safely  to  her  cottage  ; 

Tell  her  it  was  sent  hy  me. 

She  will  fondly  stoop  to  gather 

From  thy  wave  the  welcome  leaf, 
Press  it  to  her  lips,  and  smother 

Liirhtly  so  her  swelling  grief. 
Murmur  faintly,  as  she  takes  it  : 

"Faithful  lover  sent  it  thee — 
Be  the  treasure  to  thee  ever, 

linage  of  his  constancy." 


XIX. 

ONCE  I  saw,  in  pride  of  beauty, 
Full  unveiled,  a  golden  (lower. 

Sweetest  perfume  flowed  around  it : 
It  was  evening's  winning  hour. 


8  O  X  G  S  .  171) 

I  approached  the  splendid  blossom, 
Kissed  its  bosom  softly  swelling; 

But  no  odours  breathed  around  it, 

Though  it  seemed  their  chosen  dwelling. 

By  this  blossom  bloomed  unseen, 

Low  in  sbade,  a  milder  (lower ; 
Pale  its  check,  and  wet  its  eye, 

Bathed  in  evening's  dewy  shower. 

O'er  the  lonely  (lower  I  hung; 

Thence  the  sweets  that  filled  the  air : 
To  that  gentle  (lower  1  clung — 

Pale,  yet  seemed  it  more  than  fair. 


XX. 

OXCE,  in  the  heart  of  a  desert, 

Blossomed  a  rose-bush  unseen  : 
Only  the  sands  were  around  it ; 

Nou glit  but  its  leaf  was  there  green, 
Ever,  at  evening  and  morning, 

Trickled  its  (lowers  with  dew ; 
And  then,  in  light  circles,  round  it 

Fondly  a  nightingale  flew. 


1  £0  so  x  a  s  . 

Over  the  sands  stn.yed  a  pilgrim, 

Lost  in  the  .midst  of  the  wild, 
When  on  his  faint  eye,  at  evening. 

Sweetly  the  rose-hlossom  smiled  : 
Sweetly  the  nightingale  wooed  him, 

l:nder  its  shade  to  repose ; 
There  his  song  charmed  liim  to  shnnher, 

Wet  hy  the  dew  of  the  rose. 

Freshlv  he  rose  in  the  morning — 

Dug  in  the  sand  hy  the  (lower, 
And  a  bright  fountain  up-sparkled. 

Welling  with  hnhhling  shower: 
Over  the  sands  as  it  mn  mm  red, 

CIreen  sprung  the  grass  hy  its  side; 
Hound  it  a  garden  soon  blossomed, 

Fed  hy  its  lite-giving  tide. 

There,  too,  a  wild  vine  up-started  ; 

Under  its  shelter  he  dwelt  : 
Morning  and  evening,  yet  ever 

Low  by  the  rose-hush  he  knelt. 
So  in  the  far  waste  forgotten, 

Still  (lowed  his  pure  life  along. 
Soothed  hv  the  rose-blossom's  fragrance. 

*  £5 

Charmed  by  the  nightingale's  song. 


S  O  X  «  3  .  18! 

XXI. 

WHEN  the  violet  blows, 
Light  the  swallow  plumes  liis  wings, 
Sweet  the  earliest  robin  sings ; 

Something  dearer  brings  the  rose. 

Fairer  forms  are  nigh, 
When  the  rose  is  lull  anil  bright  : 
Kver  shapes  of  softest  light 

Thou  in  glancing  llight  go  by. 

From  what  clime  are  they  ? 
From  the  wakened  heart  they  rise, 
Hright  as  lutes  of  orient  skies — 

Soon  the  vision  flies  awav. 


16' 


THE  SISTER  SPIRITS. 

A  CANTATA. 


FIRST   VOICE. 

I  ix  the  morning  flutter 
Over  the  dew-lit  (lowers, 

Light  in  the  moniing  lluttor 
Aronntl  the  rosy  howora. 

Gay  as  the  mavis  singing 
Among  tlie  dew-lit  tlowers, 

Yon  liear  my  clear  voice  ringing 
Out  of  the  rosy  howers — 
Out  of  the  rosy  howers, 
Around  the  rosy  bowers — 

Yon  hear  my  clear  voice  ringing 
Around  the  rosy  howers. 

SECOND  VOICE. 

I,  when  the  night  is  still, 

Over  the  ocean  glide, 
Or  round  the  silent  hill, 

Upon  the  moonbeam  ride. 


THE    SISTER    SPIRITS.  183 

When  all  is  dark  and  lone, 

From  deep  and  winding  doll, 
You  hear  my  magic  tone, 

Like  the  distant  mermaid's  shell. 
From  winding  dell 
You  hear  it  swell, 
Far,  then  near,  like  the  mermaid's  shell. 

DOTH. 

We  are  two  sister  peris, 

Floating  in  light  along, 
Dam-ing  at  night  with  the  fairies, 
Joining  the  lark  in  his  song. 
\Ve  come  and  go. 
Like  the  sea  in  its  (low, 
And  soli  as  the  snow, 
As  it  falls  on  the  river, 

Steal  to  the  heart, 
And  are  gone  forever. 
Sister  spirits  arc  we, 

From  the  heaven  of  song  descending ; 
Our  feelings  and  tones  agree, 
In  harmony  ever  blending. 


FIRST  VOICE. 

When  o'er  the  hills  the  dawn  is  stealing, 
I  lark  to  my  trill  of  joyous  feeling — 


181  THK    SISTER    SPIRITS. 

SKCOXP  VOIOK. 

When  the  evening  lias  failed  and  gone, 
List  to  inv  song  as  it  dies  away — . 

FIR^T  VOICK. 

Hoar  me  too,  when  the  dews  are  fulling, 
Home  to  her  bower  the  truant  calling — 

SKro\l>  VOK'K. 

When  the  bright  moon  is  rolling  on. 

Hear  my  deep  shell  on  the  silvered  hay. 
Hear  my  deep  shell  on  the  silvered  hay — 
Kiuvr  M>i«'K. 

Hark  to  my  trill  of  joyous  feeling. 

Like  the  young  lark's,  in  his  gladness  wheeling- 

SKOOM*  YOU'K. 

List  to  my  sonjj  as  it  dies  away. 
List  to  my  song  as  it  hursts  again, 
Loud  as  the  trump  on  the  battle  plain. 
Xow.  like  the  mountain  horn, 

Clanging  through  vood  and  dell. 
Far  on  the  echoes  borne — 

O!  hark  to  its  rolling  swell. 
Careering — careering  afar, 

It  pours  like  a  llood  from  the  height, 
Answers  from  crag  and  scar. 

Then  breathes  likr  the  whisper  of  night. 

KIKST  VOli'K. 

Merrily — merrily  ringing, 

My  clear  voice  wakens  the  grove, 


T  I!  K    SISTER    SPIRITS.  1  85 

Clear  as  the  woodman**,  singing 

The  song  of  his  happy  love. 
Like  hees  on  the  purple  heather, 

When  summer  is  still  and  bright, 
My  tones,  light  hovering,  gather 

New  sweets  in  their  airy  (light. 


Mine  is  the  spell  of  power  — 

FIRST  VOH'K. 

Mine  is  the  charm  oft'eeling— 

t»K«'«»\|»  V«HrK. 

Night  is  my  chosen  ]mur  — 

FIRST  von  K. 
Mine  is  the  cheerful  day. 

BOTH. 

Each  to  the  heart  appealing, 

We  rule  with  a  ma<*-jc  «way, 

And  willing  s])irits  ohey 
The  sweet  influence  over  them  stealing. 

Winningly  thus  <»ur  tones  combine,- 
Like  tlie  lily  and  rose  in  perfect  twine. 
A  moment  we  hover  —  then  take  our  flight  : 
Good  night  to  you  all!  Goodnight!  Goodnight! 


CLASSIC  MELODIES. 

PART  I. 


I  have  attempted,  !»clow,  a  series  of  imitations  of  four  of  the  lead- 
in-.:  classy  of  ancient  measures,  namely,  the  Hart)  lie  (Elegiac,) 
Iambic  (includmi;  the  Anacreontic,)  Anapestie,  and  Trochaic. 
The  first  I  have  adapted,  after  the  manner  of  Tyrta-us,  to  the 
Patriotic  Ele^v;  the  Iambic  proper  (Trimeter,)  to  a  subject 
not  unsuited  to  its  tragic  character:  the  Anacreontic,  to  its  not 
inappropriate  purpose,  as  a  Dithyrambic.  The  Anapestie  \\-.\s  the 
proj>er  movement  of  a  inarch;  in  the  longer  lines  (Tetrameter,) 
that  of  a  dead  man-It ;  in  the  shorter  (Dimeter,)  that  of  an  on 
set.  The  Trochaic  I  have  adapted  to  the  sentimental  ;  in  the 
longer  lines  (Tetrameter,)  to  the  more  tender  and  pathetic;  in 
the  shorter  (Dimeter.)  to  the  lighter  and  more  cxhilerart. 
Here,  too,  in  lines  of  eo^na!  length,  the  character  varies,  as  the 
measure  is  complete  or  incomplete  (Aeataleetie  or  Cataleetic;) 
in  the  former  case,  the  movement  !>eing  more  gentle  :  in  the  lat 
ter,  more  spirited.  I  have  aimed  at  classical  imagery  and  senti 
ment,  in  all  these  pieces,  exeept  the  first  Trochaic,  the  character 
of  which  is  nit  her  modern  ;  !>ut  such  is  the  dominant  influence  of 
the  Subjective,  in  modern  poetry,  that  I  am  conscious  I  have  not 
attained,  as  well  as  I  could  wish,  to  the  purer  Objective  of  the 
ancients.] 

ELEGIAC. 

O !  IT  is  great  for  our  country  to  die,  where  ranks  are 

contending; : 

Bright  is  the  wreath  of  our  fame  ;  Glory  awaits 
us  for  avc — 


C  L  A  S  S  I  C    M  E  L  O  D  I  E  S  .  1 87 

Glory,  that  never  is  dim,  shining  on  with  a  light 

never  ending — 

Glory,  that   never  shall  fade,  never,  O!    never 
away. 

O !  it  is  sweet  for  our  country  to  die — how  softly  re 
poses 
Warrior  youth  on  his  bier,  wet  by  the  tears  of  his 

love, 
Wet  by  a  mother's  warm  tears  ;  they  crown  him  with 

garlands  of  roses, 

Weep,  and  then  joyously  turn,  bright  where  he 
triumphs  above. 

Not  to  the  shades  shall  the  youth  descend,  who  for 

country  hath  perished  : 
Hebe  awaits  him  in  heaven,  welcomes  him  there 

with  her  smilfc  ; 
There  at  the  banquet  divine,  the  patriot  spirit  is 

cherished  ; 

Gods  love  tho  young,  who  ascend  pure  from  the 
funeral  pile. 

Not  to  Elysian  fields,  by  the  still  oblivious  river ; 
Not  to  the  isles  of  the  blest,  over  the  blue-rolling 
sea; 


188  CLASSIC    MELODIES. 

Out  on  Olympian  heights  shall   dwell  the  devoted 

forever ; 

There  shall  assemble   the  good,  there  the  wise, 
valiant  and  free. 

O !  then  how  great  for  our  country  to  die,  in  the 

front  rank  to  perish, 
Finn  with  our  breast   to  the  foe,  victory's  shout 

in  our  ear : 
Long  they  our  statues  shall   crown,  in   songs  our 

memory  cherish; 

We  shall  look  forth  from  our  heaven,  pleased  the 
sweet  music  to  hear. 


IAMBIC. 

MY  heart  is  sad,  my  hope  is  gone,  my  lijjht  has  fled ; 

I  sit  and  mourn,  in  silent  grief,  the  lingering  day : 

Ah!  nevermore  he  comes,  my  love  ;  among  the  dead, 

0!  far,  O!    far,    his    ilceting   shade    has    flown 

away. 

Far  o'er  the  dark  and  dismal  wave,  whence  no  re 
turn, 

In  deepest  night  he  wanders  now,  a  shape  of  air : 
He  hears  me  not ;  hears  not  the  sighs,  with  love 

that  burn : 

I  see  no  more  that  form,  so  bright,  so  young  and 
fair. 


i 

CLASSIC    MELODIES.  189 

O !  bright  and  fair,  as  shapes  that  oft  from  heaven 

descend, 

And  on  Parnassus  stand  before  the  setting  sun: 
Bright,  whon  lie  moved  in  shining  arms,  home  to 

defend  ; 
Bright,  when  a  champion  strong,  the  eager  race 

he  run : 

O !  fair,  as  rose  and  lily  fair,  when  they  entwine, 
In    asphodelian   meads,  their   wreath   of  virgin 

bloom : 
His  heart  was  kind  as  brave;  O!  he  was  doubly 

mine, 
But  now  I  only  weep  beside  his  early  tomb. 

Death,  with  inverted  torch,  the  young  and  gentle 

death, 
Weeps  o'er  him  now,  and  mourns  the  plucked 

and  withered  flower : 
All  bloom  must  fade — the  south-wind  breathes  its 

withering  breath, 
And  the  clear-blowing   north   sweeps  on,  with 

blasting  power. 

I  too  must  soon  be  gone ;  in  grief  I  glide  away: 
The  rose  has  left  my  cheek;  my  eye  looks  dim 

through  tears. 
Come,  gentle  death  !  here  with  the  youth  in  silence 

lay 

My  form,  ere  it  has  felt  the  icy  touch  of  years.' 
17 


100  CLASSIC    MELODIES 


ANAC'KKOXTIC. 

COME,  crown  my  cup  with  roses; 

With  wine  now  hrim  it  over: 
My  heart  in  joy  reposes  ; 

Around  it  pleasures  hover. 
The  nectar  sparkles  hriiihtly. 

With  li.uht  from  love's  lull  quiver 
Come,  drain  it,  drain  it  lightly, 

And  shout :    to  forever! 

With  \vreathen  ivy  crown  mo. 

Dark-eyed  Kolian  maiden! 
In  sweet  oblivion  drown  mo. 

Till  deep  with  joy  oVrladen. 
I  sink  in  hlissful  slumber. 

And  dream  of  love  and  /oe  ; 
Till,  at  some  merry  number, 

1  wake,  and  shout  :   Evoe  ! 

I  seize  my  lyre — loud  rinsing. 

It  hounds  beneath  my  lingers  : 
To  frantic  dances  springing, 

\Vhat  heart  so  cold,  it  lingers  ? 
Toss,  toss  the  vine-clad  thyrscs ! 

Wine  tires  ;  extol  the  giver. 
Shout,  with  a  cry  that  pierces 

The  soul :  Io  forever ! 


CLASSIC    MKI.OIMER.  191 

ANAPESTIC. 
I. 

IN  th«  silence  of  night,  and  in  solemn  array,  by  the 
glimmer  of  torches,  is  wheeling, 

Majestic,  the  funeral  train,  on  its  way,  ami  its  mu 
sic  is  plaintively  stealing — 

N  plaintively  stealing,  in  echoes,  afar,  awaking 
emotions  of  sorrow  ; 

It  mourns,  how  the  youth  march  to-day  to  the  war, 
but  return  to  us  never  to-morrow. 

Spear  and  buckler  reversed,  slow   the  army  moves 

on,  its  standards  and  banners  low  trailing: 
Not  a  shout  now  is  heard  for  the  victory  won  ;  all  is 

hushed,  but  the,  (lute  softly  wailing. 
Light  and  still  glide  their  steps,  and  in   unison  all, 

attuned  to  their  solemn  emotion  ; 
One  faint  hollow  murmur  is  heard  at  each  fall,  like 

the  far  echoed  roar  of  the  ocean. 

Home,  in  urns,  they  are  bearing  the  dust  of  the  dead, 

dark  veils  o'er  each  urn  lo\v  depending — 
How  sacred  the  relics  of  those  who  have  bled,  for 

hearth  and  for  altar  contending. 
Not  a  trophy  they  rear,  till  they  lay  in  the  tomb,  the 

ashes  that  sleep  there  in  glory — 
Till  their  piraris  arc  sung,  and  the  words  that  illume, 

transmit  their  proud  record  to  story. 


1 92  C  L  A  S  S  I  C    M  K  L  O  D  I  E  8  . 

80  on  through  the  streets  of  the  city  they  move,  ami 

the  old  anil  the  young  there  attend  them: 
They  moot  them  with  greetings  of  sorrow  and  love — 

fondly  welcome  the  brave  \vho  defend  them  ; 
And  they  weep  from  their  hearts,  as  each  urn  passes 

hy,  a  child  or  a  parent  enclosing  : 
As  he  left  them,  his  patriot  hosom  heat  high  ;  now 

in  death  he  is  darkly  reposing. 


0!   WAKEX  the  music  of  battle — 

Let  the  clash  of  the  cymbals  ring  loudly, 
As  the  spears  on  the  shields  dash  and  rattle, 

When  onward  the  youth  rushes  proudly  : 
Let  the  horn  and  the  trumpet,  resounding 

In  long  rolling  echoes,  inspire  us, 
Till  our  hearts,  like  the  billow,  are  bounding, 

And  omens  of  victory  tire  us. 

Hark  the  shout ! — far  its  echo  is  rolling; 

Eleleu!   Eleleu!  swells  it  onward  : 
Sword  and  shield  clang  in  time,  high  controlling 

Each  hero,  quick  hurrying  vanward. 
On  the  foe  moves  in  line,  linn  and  steady, 

To  the  soft  breath  of  llutes  slow  advancing; 
Drawn  each  sword,  poised  each  spear,  all  are  ready; 

Bright  the  sun  on  their  plumed  helms  is  glancing. 


r  L  A  s  s  i  <:  M  K  r.  o  n  i  R  H  .  1 93 

To  the  charge!  like  the  rush  of  flic*  ocean —      , 

Like  torrents,  from  motmtnin  tops  dashing 
Down  the  gulf,  where  in  mingled  commotion, 

Cr;ig  ami  wooil  'mill  flic  wliito  flood  nr«'  rr 
Ilurk  tlii'sliock! — sliicMon  sliirM  rings, r 

As  n  rock  linnly  s«-t,  tliry  rrjM'l  it. 
On  again,  Imnlrr  lOlrlrns  sattnding ; 

Ours  such  lir«',  not  the  Spartan  ran  (juoll  it 


TROCHAIC. 

I. 

SOFTLY  sweet  tins  song  is  stealing,  softly  through 

the  night  afar  ; 
Faint  anil  low  the?  hell  is  pealing;  dim,  through  haze, 

the  light  of  star  : 
Hushed  and  still  is  all  around  me  ;  cold  and  still  my 

!)  rood  ing  heart — 
Sure  some  magic  spell  hath  hound  mo — bid,  O  !  bid 

the  spell  depart. 

O  !  that  song,  so  softly  breathing — how  it  Hows  into 

my  soul  ; 
Memory  then  her  twine  unwreatiiing,  tears  of  young 

emotion  roll : 

17* 


1 91  CLASSIC    MELODIES.. 

And,  as  far  the  knell  is  tolling,  how  my  spirit  floats 

away, 
Over  years,   like    billows,   rolling,  to   the   scenes, 

where  youth  was  gay. 

Dut  the  night,  so  hushed  around  mo,  and  the  sky, 
so  dim  above, 

In  a  lonely  t ranee  have  hound  me,  t ranee  of  min 
gled  grief  and  love. 

Still  on  enrlv  fondness  dwelling,  faded  hloom  of 
vernal  years ; 

All  I  hear,  the  sigh  faint  swelling;  all  I  feel,  my 
.  trickling  tears. 


MAIDS  are  sitting  by  the  fountain  ; 
Bright  the  moon  o'er  yonder  mountain : 
O'er  her  shepherd  watching  lonely, 
On  his  sleep  she  looketh  only. 
Softly  whispering  by  the  fountain, 
Oft  they  look  unto  the  mountain, 
Think  how  through  the  midnight  hours, 
There  the  shepherd  sleeps  on  (lowers. 

Clear  the  fountain  wave  is  gleaming ; 
Still  the  happy  youth  is  dreaming  : 


CLASSIC    MELODIES.  1 95 

Chastest  love  is.  watching  o'er  him  ; 
Crouched  liis  faithful  dog  before  him. 
Now  the  bubbling  wave  is  sparkling ; 
Now  beneath  a  shadow  darkling: 
OVr  the  moon  a  cloud  is  stealing ; 
Passes  now,  her  li«;ht  revealing. 

Ni«jht  winds  o'er  the  fountain  blowing, 
Like  Kolian  music  flowing, 
Far  their  warbled  breath  is  gliding, 
Swelling,  trembling,  then  subsiding.. 
Of  the  shepherd  on  the  mountain 
Sing  the  maids  boside  the  fountain  : 
Each  then  seems  in  air  to  -hover, 
Watching  o'er  her  sleeping  lover. 


III. 

SEE  the  bounding  bark  afloat ! 

Steady  blows  the  willing  gale  : 
Joy,  with,  merry,  merry  note, 

Hoists  and  spreads  the  purple  sail. 
Far  away,  O  !  far  away, 

I  must  cross  the  dashing  sea; 
So,  my  dearest,  do  not  stay ; 

Boldly  cross  the  wave  with  me. 


1  <X»  CLASSIC     3!  E  L  O  D  I  K  S  . 

To  the  far  Klysian  isles, 

'Mid  the  ocean,  in  the  west. 
Where  the  sky  forever  smiles, 

All  the  year  one  halcyon  rest — 
Shall  we  thither  speed  our  flight  ? 

Only  cross  the  wave  with  me, 
I  shall  find,  my  love  and  light. 

All  Klysian  with  thcc. 

On  the  dark  Cimmerian  strand, 

Where  eternal  shadows  reign  ; 
'Where  Caucasian  summits  stand. 

Towering  o'er  the  untrodden  plain  ; 
Win-re  along  the  fatal  shore, 

Music  lulls  the  soul  to  death  ; 
Wastes,  tint  hear  the  lion's  roar; ; 

Sands,  where  kills  the  dragon's  hreath 

| 
Or  in  flowery  gardens,  where 

Bends  the  lotus,  passing  sweet ; 
Vales,  where  roses  lill  the  air ; 

Meads,  where  silent  waters  meet, 
Lingering  on  through  asphodel — 

With  thee,  all  alike  would  he  : 
If  with  me  thou  deign  to  dwell, 

All  Elvsian  smiles  to  me. 


CLASSIC  MELODIES. 

PART    II. 


[In  the  present  section,  several  varieties  *>f  ancient  mc:isures  are 
attempted,  in  addition  to  those  in  the  preceding.  In  the  series 
of  Dactylics,  the  effect  of  the  different  degree*  of  C'atalcxis  i*, 
if  I  mistake  not,  elearly  evident;  that  on  on«-  syllable  (;is  in 
the  Hexameter  If,  arid  in  the  Pentameter  and  Tetrameter,  here 
given,)  leading  to  a  more  suMued  or  sustained  expression  :  and 
that  on  two  syllaMc*  (as  in  the  Heroic  II«  xaim  t<  r  I,)  to  a  higher 
and  more  energetic  expression,  peculiarly  suited  to  the  Epic  ; 
while  t!»e  Acatalectic  (eoui{>!(  tr)  termination  on  three  syllaMes 
gives  a  fuller  expression,  approaching  the  magniloquent,  or  a 
lighter  movement,  verging  on  levity.  The  Hyp<  r'iit.i!«-etje 
termination  of  the  Hexameter  (I  V.)  whieli  is  really  a  Hefrtameter, 
Cat  alee  tic  on  one  syllaMe,  presents  a  very  singular  measure,  u.s 
hajipy  in  its  ••rjiression  as  it  is  dittlfult  of  exenuion.  The  Iam!>ic 
Tetrameter  Cataleetie  (I)  is  the  "O  !  Miss  Jiailey"  m«-a.stire,  so 
much  a  favourite  in  Romaic  por-try,  ax  in  the  Es>uras  a?r:>.ay:y^nrf 
ofChristopoulos.  This  is  strikingly  difTe.rpiit,  in  its  li^ht  tripping 
movement,  from  the  corresponding  Acatalectic  verse  (II.)  uhsrh  is 
always  marked,  more  or  less,  !»y  a  slow  and  dignified  «»r  plaintive 
expression,  similar  to  that  of  the  Tragic.  Iam!>ic  (Part  I.)  The 
Choriam!»ic,  from  the  natural  pause  between  tho  mcasiires,  IMS  a 
!x>unding,  !»iit  at  the  same  time  energetic  movemeitt,  which  may, 
by  changing  the  pause  to  a  slide,  !.«-eom«'  su!*!ued  and  flowing. 
But  a  continuous  series  of  Choriam!»ics  h;ts  a  monotonous  eff.  <•», 
anddouhtU'Ss  for  this  re;isnn  t'i«-y  were  usually  accomj>;uii«-d  with 
other  feet,  particularly  as  terminations.  Thus  the  Choriam!.ic 
(I)  has  an  Iambic  (Cataleetie)  termination,  or  its  c^uivaieiit; 


198  C  L  A  S  S  I  C    M  E  L  O  I>  I  E  S  . 

while  the  Ohorianibic  Polyschematist  consists  of  two  memlM>rs. 
each  with  an  Iambic  termination,  (tin-  first  complete,  the  second 
Cataleetie.)  The  Ohoriambic  (II)  is  comj»osed  of  a  pure  series 
of  Choriambics,but  is  so  arranged  if  I  mistake  not,  as  to  »ive,  in 
most  instanecs,  :m  easy  slide  fn)in  one  measure  t«>  another,  thus 
relieving  the  natural  abruptness  of  the  verse.  The  two  spcei- 
inens,  tinder  t!-e  head  of  Glyconic  and  Pherecratean,  differ  only 
i:i  tin-  distribution  of  the  two  varieties  of  verse  combined;  the 
latter  specimen  formins:  the  verse  called  Priapeian,  by  the 
ancients.  The  specimen,  marked  Eupolidean  and  Cratmean, 
consists  of  a  stanxa  of  the  former  verse,  followed  by  one  of  the 
latter;  the  two  differing  so  little  as  to  l»e  readily  combined  in  the 
same  series.  The  Kpionic  (Potywheinuti.Ht.)  like  the  Chori- 
am!>ic  Polyschematist,  consists  of  two  members,  the  hist  of 
which,  as  in  the  latter,  is  on«  syllable  shorter  than  the  first.  The 
Asvn:irt«'te  verse  is  characterized  by  a  change  of  movement  in 
the  middle  of  the  line;  the  first  member,  in  this  imrt:inco>bc>nnning 
with  the  aciviit  (<ir.v/.v  ;)  th<>  sectuwi,  with  an  unaccented  syllaMu 
(tfiesis.)  An  instance  uf  such  verse  occurs  in  the  first  half  of 
the  stanza  in  Lay  XII  (p.  110,)  where  the  lines  are  alternately 
Trochaic  and  Iambic.  This  verse  corresponds  to  the  succession 
of  verses  or  strains  in  music,  beginning  alternately  with  full  and 
broken  measures,  an  instance  of  which  occurs  in  the  Harcarole 
in  M;usaniello.  This  alternation,  U»th  ir  rMKtr>'and  music,  pro 
duces  an  elfec*  at  oner  striking  and  ple;ising.  Several  of  the 
varieties  of  verse,  here  attempted,  mi^ht  form  agreeable  stanzas, 
even  in  our  inflexible  lansruage,  particularly  if  the  hemisticlis 
were  written  in  distinct  lines.  This  is  more  especially  true  of 
the  Cilyconie  and  Phereeratean,  »he  Eupolidean  and  C  ratine  an, 
the  Asynartete,  and  the  two  Polyschematists.  All  the  specimens 
in  the  first  part,  and  all  thus  far  in  the  second,  are  rhymed,  which 
undoubtedly  relieves  the  ear  not  a  little  in  adapting  itself  to 
measures  so  unusual,  particularly  to  the  loinrer  lines,  such  as 
the  Hexameters,  and  the  Dipodial  Tetrameters.  A  few  speci 
mens  of  uurhvined  lloratian  stanzas  are  also  iiiven  in  the  pros- 


CLASSIC    MELODIES.  199 

ent  section,  vix.  the  Sapphic,  Alcaic,  and  two  Aftdepiadiun,  cor- 
rrojMmding  rcsjicctivcly  to  those  of  the  second,  ninth,  sixth  and 
fifth  tnlt-M  of  th«-  first  U>ok.  In  all  those,  I  have  endeavoured  to 
follow,  :ts  near  as  possiMe,  the  ancient  quantity.  'I'he  Sapphic 
consequently  differs  essentially  in  its  rhythm,  from  that  of  the 
English  aeeentnal  Sapphie.  The  C!alliant!ii«*  ami  the  Srttuniian 
verse  1  have  adapted  nut  inappropriately  to  Roman  subjects.  The 
former  i>  immortalized  in  the  Aty*  of  Catullus,  \\hil»  in  the  latter 
\ve  have  a  v''»iiitie  Latin  if.e;isure,  in  which  not  improhaMy  the 
old  lallads  «>f  early  Ko.ne  wen?  ronijHtsed.  This,  t«n>,  is  Asyn- 
;:rtete  in  its  structure  ;  ;^fact  perhaps  connected  with  the  similar 
mi»vcinent  in  some  of  the  popular  airs  of  the  Italians,  a!>ove 
alh-ded  to.J 

1  >ACT  V  L  !  C  H  K  X  A  >T  ET  K  R  . 


BARD  of  the  l>rii(lit  (,'lii:iii  isle,  from  sno\v-crowne«l 

(  )lyinpiiM  doMccnrling, 
Come    to  my  spirit  at  nii^lit,  thy  own  full  ecstnsy 


Bear  me  away  through  t)iv  world,  still  with  youtli's 

first  «'ii<ir<fy  °;l<>\viii";; 
Still  with  tin*  jrreat  and  the  fair,  in  wide  effusion 


Other  creations   may  fade,  to  shapeless  ruin  de 
caying: 

Over  the  world  of  thy  sonjr,  youth's  earliest  dawn  is 
still  playing. 


200  CLASSIC     MELODIES. 

Long  the  tall  turrets  of  Troy  have  perished,  by  cen 
turies  riven — 

Still  at  thy  bidding  they  rise,  untouched  and  immor 
tal,  to  heaven. 

Still  rise  her  sons  in  their  might,  dark  plumes  o'er 
their  helmets  wide  waving — 

Armed  for  their  altars  and  homes,  the  god  and  the 
warrior  braving. 

Hector  still  burns  in  the  fight,  awhile  the  wild  tor 
rent  controlling ; 

Then,  like  the  thunderer's,  in  wrath,  the  car  of 
Achilles  is  rolling. 

i 

Ever  new  forms,  at  thy  touch,  to  life  and  to  beauty 
are  starting — 

Helen  still  wins  with  her  smile ;  Andromache 
trembles  at  parting — 

Lone  sits  the  hero  apart,  by  the  shore  of  the  sea 
wide  resounding; 

Light  o'er  the  high  purple  wave,  the  fair-freighted 
vessel  is  bounding. 

Still  through  the  darkness  of  night,  the  grief-stricken 

monarch  is  stealing, 
Falls  at  the  feet  of  his  foe,  and  melts  him  to  tender- 

est  feeling — 


CLASSIC    MELODIES.  201 

Nature !  thy  power  is  supreme,  no  proud-hearted 

victor  can  sway  thee  ; 
When  thy  soft  whisper  is  heard,  the  strong  and  tL«j 

mighty  obey  thee. 


II. 

DEEP,  'mid  the  shades  of  night,  I  sink  in  silent  repose; 

Pressed  by  the  soft  touch  of  sleep,  my  lids  on  the 
outer  world  close ; 

IJut  to  the  eye  of  my  soul,  a  fairer  vision  unfolds, 

That,  with  a  charm  of  delight,  my  spirit  long  won 
dering  holds. 

There  are  the  bright  forms  of  youth,  creations  too 

lovely  to  stay : 
Ever  they  come  in   my  dreams — I   wake,  and  they 

hasten  away. 
Over  my  pillow  they  hover,  as   clouds  o'er  the  far 

golden  west, 
When,  in  the  soft-heaving  wave,  Day  sinks  to  the 

couch  of  his  rest. 

There  rise,  in  beauty,  the  shapes  that  gladdened  in 

earliest  time, 
Where  spread  the  lily  and  rose,  full  bloomed,  in 

Ionia's  clime : 

18 


. 
202  CLASSIC    M  K  I.  O  D  I  K  M  . 

Nymphs,  too,  of  forest  ami  grove,  of  fountain  ami 

blue-rolling  deep, 
Still,  with  their  dark-bcnining  eves,  fond  watch  o'er 

the  sltnnhcrcr  keep. 

Still,  from  the  high   walls   of  heaven,  tlie   gods   in 

their  glorv  descend  ; 
Still,  to  the  bold-bearing  youth,  their   power    am! 

their  spirit  they  lend  ; 
Still,  o'er  the    dark-roll in«j   clouds,  triumphant   they 

ride  in  their  ears  ; 
Still,  from  victorious  death,  the  demigod  mounts  to 

the  stars. 

Eldest  and  highest  .of  hards  !  thy  song,  with  its  mu 
sic  divine. 

Rolls  through  this  magical  world,  my  spirit  has 
raised  tor  its  shrine. 

Still,  as  when  first  from  thy  lyre  its  tours  in  har- 
monv  stole, 

Breathes,  through  the  silence  of  night,  its  influence 
deep  in  my  soul. 


STILL,  as  in  youth,  ever  green,  the  laurel  of  Homer 

is  flourishing ; 
Life-giving  streams  hathe  its  roots,  its  wide-waving 

foliage  nourishing : 


C  L  A  S  S  I  r    >f  K  L  0  »  I  E  S  .  203 

Light,  from  the  ever  bright  throne,  still  over  its  sum 
mit  is  hovering, 

Dlossom  ami  leaf,  n.s  they  wave,  still  witli  heavenly 
radiance  eoverin". 

And.  as  I  look  to  its  skv-pierciiiir  summit,  an  ca^le 

•      I  ^  *5 

lias  taken  me, 
Hears  me  aloft,  wlu-re   the  blasts  from  Olympus  to 

keener  life  waken  me. 
[fail!  to  the  herald,  whose  cloud-cleaving   pinion 

friMii  eartli  enn  ileliver  mo — 
Nothing1  In-low  from  tin-  liigh  train  of  hards  awl  of 

heroes  shall  sever  me. 


IV. 

UKRAJ.D  of  earliest  «lawn,  at  thy  smile  the  blue  wa 
ters  are  stirring  again  : 

\Vi«le  the  sea  wakes  from  its  sleep,  as  thv  bright 
eye  enkindles  the  skv  and  the  main. 

As  the  wind  flutters  thy  locks,  and  plavs  with  the 
folds  of  thy  many-dyed  veil, 

Holdly  we  launch  on  the  deep,  and  deck  with  thy 
purple  the  snow  of  our  sail. 

Earth  then  gives  tokens  of  life,  and  a^ain  as  a  giant 
refreshed  with  repose, 

Youthfully  starts  from  its  dreams,  and  its  cheeks 
are  all  flushed  with  the  bloom  of  the  rose. 


i!0-l  r  i.  A-S  s  i  r  M  i:  i.  o  D  IKS. 

Phosphor  leads  on  thy  bright  train,  ami   \v:w«s  his 

clear  torch,  as  the  night  steals  away; 
Thru    come  the   light-Hurt  ed  hours,  ami    with   soft 

hands  unfold  the  lair  portals  of  dav  : 
Forth  on  thy  rose-wreathen  rar,  thou  rollest  'mid 

hillows  ofsallron  and  gold; 
F<ovos,  on  their  thin   iris   \vinjjs,  tln>    r«Ml-streaniinij 

inis's.  as  thy  <*anr»j»y,  hold. 
Gracefully  ever  at  morn,  thy  ear  thus  aloft  o'er  the 

mountain  is  horne  ; 
And  as  thou  eomest,  the  woods  rinij  aloud  with  the 

elanii  ol 'the  weU'oiniii'j  liorn. 


DAl'TYl.ir  PKNTAMKTKK. 

SIMRIT  of  hope  and  of  joy,  who,  in  lutlicst  day, 
Ihvellest  'n\i«l  ever  hri^ht  flowers,  from  thy  home 

of  delight, 
Come  to  me  still  as  a  friend,  'mid  the  visions  of 

niillit — 

Bear  me,  on  pinions  of  love,  to  thy  heaven  away. 
There  where   the   fountains   of  life    in    the    clear 

morning  phiv, 

Bathinir  the  hlossoms  around  with  their  freshen 
ing  dew, 

Waking  forever  the  rose,  its  sweet  youth  to  renew. 
Couched  on  the  ever  green  grass,  I  would  lingering 
stav. 


CLASSIC    M  K  I.  O  T>  I  K  S  .  205 

Blest  with  thy  presence  alow,  I  would  ever  remain, 
Live  nit  thy  smile  and   thy  SOMLJ  : — wonldst  thou 

ever  he  near, 
Hreathin<r  tin*  '  HM*s  of  tliy  iiwtrt,  ris  a  Into,  in  mv 

ear, 
Never  llio  <Mil«l   n-alni  of  i-Jirth   slioiild   possess  in«; 

Bgain. 
O!  Khali  I   n»'v«T  !><•  free  from   this  lioart-cnishing 

chain  7 
Shrill  tlic  fonil  ilrc.atns  of  mv  vouth  !>c  arouri'l  ni^ 

no  more-  ? 
Sliall  tln-rc   no  bright  mornin<j  f!awn,  to  revive 

rind  restore  ? 
Foi»dlv  I  look  to  tliv  aid — lot  mo  look  not  in  vain ! 


DACTYLIC  TETRAMETER. 

EVER  thou  romcst,  at  ovon  and  morn — 

Coin«;.st,  attended  with  flute  and  with  horn  : 

Over  the  mountain,  and  over  the  hill. 

Lightly  and  hrijfhtly  thou  hoveros^  still. 

All  the  gay  rites  of  thy  worship  are  '_fone  ; 

All  the  bright  train,  that  once  graced  thee,  have 

flown  : 

Not  even  the  fauns  with  their  whistles  would  stay  ; 
They  too  have  fled  through  the  forests  away: 
18* 


206  CLASSIC    MELOJMES. 

IJut  thon,  enchantress,  still  ever  art  nigh— 
Breathest,  at  even  ami  dawn,  from  the  sky. 

Softly  the  west-wind  now  wafts  thee  alon<r — 
Wafts  over  meadow  anil  valley  lliy  song: 
Then  the  wild  songster  is  hushed  :it  tl.y  flight ; 
Silent  he  pauses,  entranced  in  delight. 
Naiads  have  vanished  from  fountain  and  stream  ; 
Nymph  of  the  forest  has  lied,  like  a  dream; 
Down  in  the  depth  of  the  blue-rolling  deep, 
Pillowed  forever,  the  sea-maidens  sleep: 
Spirit  of  melody  !  still  thou  art  ni«h — 
Hreathest.  at  even  and  dawn,  from  the  sky. 


IAMBIC  TETHAMETER. 
I. 

AURORA  rises  o'er  the  hills,  hy  graceful  hours  at 
tended. 

And  in  her  train,  a  merry  troop  of  bright-eyed  loves 
are  blended. 

Away  they  fly,  o'er  wood  and  wild — o'er  lake  and 
winding  river ; 

And  as  they  fly,  the  kindling  sky  is  glowing  brighter 
ever. 


CLASSIC    M  K  L  O  D  I  E  S .  207 

The  world  now  wak«*s,  and  silence  flies  to  cave  of 

lonely  mountain  : 
The  deer  steal  from  their  forest  Blades;  the  hirds 

sing  o'er  the  fountain  : 
The  cottage  smoker,  o'er  vale  rind  plain,  in  many  a 

curl,  is  flowing ; 
And  guided  hy  the  tinkling  hell,  the  herd  afield  is 


The   level  sunbeams  touch  the  lake — its  sheeted 

wave  is  flashing ; 
And  brighter  still,  from  eastward  hill,  the  waterfall 

is  dashing : 
The  plashing  wheel  revolves  below — a  shower  of 

light  is  round  it ; 
Those  orient  hues,  the  drops  diffuse,  with  mazy 

circles  bound  it. 

O !  gay  the  plastic  dreams  of  old,  the  world  their 

touch  created. 
The  poet's  eye,  with  fervent  gaze,  still  o'er  it  broods 

unsated. 
Fair  forms  still  haunt  the  forest-wild,  still  dwell  by 

shady  river : 
Their  loveliness  shall  never  fade ;  their  bloom  is 

fresh  forever. 


*<!08  CLASSIC    MELODIES. 


II. 

O  \  TURN  not, dearest, on  me  so— 1  cannot  l>car  that 

grief  of  thine  : 
Thy  sorrow  stcalcth  to  my  heart — there  silently  it 

feedeth  mine. 
The  grief,  I  feel,  1  would  subdue,,  and  then  would 

wipe  thy  tears  away ; 
But    while  1    see   thee   sorrowing   so,    this   gloom 

around  my  heart  will  stay. 

O !  let  me  only  catch    one   smile,   like   morning's 

glance  from  drop  of  dew  : 
O !  let  the  soft   light  flow  again,  that  once  so  filled 

thy  eye  of  blue': 
O  !  tell  me  so,  thy  heart  hath  peace — like  withered 

flowers  revived  by  rain, 
ft  ay  thoughts   would  open   in   my  heart,  and  fond 


emotions  bloom  again. 


CHORIAMBIC. 

I. 


BEAR  me  afar  over  the   wave,  far  to  the   sacred 

islands, 
AVhere  ever  bright  blossoms  the  plain,  where  no 

cloud  hangs  on  the  highlands — 


CLASSIC     MELODIES.  209 

There  be  my  heart  ever  at  rest,  stirred  by  no  wild 

emotion : 
There  on  the  earth  only  repose,  halcyon  calm  on 

the  ocean. 

Lay  me  along,  pillowed  on  flowers,  where  steals  in 

silence  forever, 

Over  its  sands,  still  as  at  noon,  far  the  oblivious  river. 
Scarce  through  the  grass  whispers  it  by ;  deep  in 

its  wave  you  may  number 
Pebble  and  shell,  and  image  of  ilower,  folded  and 

bent  in  slumber. 

Spirit  of  life !  rather  aloft,  where  on  the  crest  of 

the  mountain, 
Clear  blow  the  winds,  fresh  from  the  north,  sparkles 

and  dashes  the  fountain, 
Lead  me  along,  hot  in  the  chase,  still  mid  the  storm 

high  glowing — 
Only  we  live — only,  when  life,  like  the  wild  torrent, 

is  flowing. 


II. 

WHEN  the  blue  wave  sinks  on  the  sea,  and  the  still 

night  hushes  the  deep, 
Ever  my  soul  hastens  to  thee,  ever  thy  smile  blesses 

my  sleep. 


X!  1 0  C  L  A  S  S  I  C     M  K  L  O  P  1  E  S  . 

Thou  a  few  hours,  Most,  thou  :irt  nigh ;  then,  too, 

as  onrfv  thou  art  wy  own  : 
lUit  when  the  dawn  kindles  tlie  sky,  sadly  I  wake 

— far  thou  hast  flown. 

Canst  thou  not  take  me  in  thy  flight,  when  with  the 

dawn  thou  art  no  more? 
.Fairer  thou  seemest,  spirit  of  heaven,  though  thou 

didst  see-in  fairest  he  fore  v 
Now  thou  art  gone,  earth  all  is  dark — ()!   wilt  thou 

ne'er  hear  me  away  ? 
Here  only  night  deadens  my  soul — yonder  alone, 

yonder  is  day ! 


CHO1UAMIJIC  POLYSCHEMATIST. 

COME  to  the  dance!  awake!  awake!  hound  with 

the  music  lightly ! 
Evening  is  falling  on  the  lake — (lashes  the  mirror 

brightly. 
Come,  where  the  elm  is  arching  high,  hcnt  with 

its  purple  treasure  : 
Bid  to  the  toil  of  day  good-bye — yield  to  the  eall 

of  pleasure ! 


CLASSIC    MELODIES.  211 

Como  to  the  dnnco,  ye  maidens  fair  !  gaily  the  song 

invites  you* 
Joy  with  his  golden  lamp  is  there— on  to  the  ring 

he  lights  you. 
Circle  around  the*  festive  tree  !  then,  as  the  music 

wakes  you, 
Trip  to  its  measures,  light  and  free — flit,  where  in 

sport  it  takes  you! 

Haste   to   the   danee,   away,  away  !  viol   and   lute 

attend  you  : 
Evening  winds,  as  with  flowers  they  play,  sweets 

from  the  rosc-huds  send  you. 
Haste  to  the  dance  !  the  music  .calls — haste  to  the 

smile  of  lover ! 
Soon   the  chilly    night-dew    faIIs-«-tlicii    must  the 

dance  he  over. 


GLYCOMC  AM)  PHERECRATEAN. 

HARK  !  the  echo  of  shout  arid  song — 
8ec  the  hacchanals  troop  along  ! 

Loud  the  cymbals  are  sounding. 
Then,  as  wildly  they  onward  pour, 
Swells  the  drum,  with  its  hollow  roar, 

Deep  from  cavern  rebounding. 


212  CLASSIC  MK  i,  on  IKS. 

Quick  the  graces,  with  timid  flight, 
Far  retire  to  the  forest-night, 

Scared,  as  the  din  is  pcalittjf. 
Gentle  nymphs  to  the  thicket  fly, 
Wait  till  the  tumult,  lias  hurried  hy, 
•    Kacked  each  tenderer  feeling. 

Such  the  tumult  and  din  of  life  ; 
So  it  rushes,  in  storm  and  strife  ; 

Flies  the  ideal  before  it  : 
And  as  its  discord  rolls  along, 
Still  is  the  gentle  voice  of  song ; 

Only  can  peace  restore  it. 


II. 


BRIC.HT  ascends  the  festal  dawn  ;  bright  the  temple 

is  flashing  : 
AVidc  a  nation  is  rolling  on  ;  spear  and  armour  are 

clashing. 
Garlands  circle  each  helmet  there,  high  on  standard 

are  glancing : 
Shouts  are   tilling  the  vernal  air  ;  gaily  the  youth 

are  dancing. 


CLASSIC    MELODIES. 

So  they  haste  to  the  sacred  games — wild  each 
bosom  is  heating : 

Victory  hijjh  each  soul  inflames— lorn!  the  cham 
pion's  ^rcetinjj. 

Swift,  flics  the  race  of  car  and  steed — far  sweeps 
the  dust  to  heaven  : 

Glorious  shines  the  conqueror's  meed,  when  by  a 
nation  given. 


KUPOLIDKAN  AND  CRATIXEAN. 

WHEN*  the  spring  has  wakened  the  flowers,  and  the 

day  is  warm  and  still ; 
When  the  rose  has  woven  its  bowers — be  my  haunt 

the  sunny  hill. 
Then  as  breathes  the  whispering  air,  o'er  my  head 

the  cloudless  sky, 
Dreams  from  heaven  visit  me  there — holy  visions 

pass  me  by. 

Silently  sleep  the  woods  around ;  mute  the  sheeted 

river  flows ; 
Hushed,  as  in  death,  the  world  of  sound  ;  voiceless, 

too,  the  zephyr  blows : 
19 


214  CLASSIC    MELODIES. 

But  to  my  heart  a  music  steals,  faint  at  first,  then 

full  and  clear ; 
Deep  in  my  soul,  from  heaven  it  peals — borne  as 

from  some  celestial  sphere. 


EPIONIC. 

WHAT  joy  at  even  to  hear  thee,  sweet  voice  of  ten- 

dcrest love ! 
How  blest,  alone   to  be   near  thee,  thou  soft  and 

sorrowing  dove ! 
Thou  seemest  all  sad  and  forsaken  ;  thy  song  dies 

sobbing  away : 
But  yet,  as  I  hear  thee,  I  waken ;  thou  singcst  of 

love  and  of  May. 

And  oft  in  summer  thou  sittest,  concealed  in  shad 
owy  pine, 

Or  where,  in  loneliest  valley,  the  tangled  cedars 
entwine. 

Beneath  their  shadow  reposing,  in  dim  mysterious 

Hght, 

I  hear  thy  song,  at  its  closing,  like  voice  of  spirit 
at  night. 


CLASSIC    .MELODIES.  215 

Tis  ever  pleasant  to  hear  thee — I  always  welcome 

thy  song ; 
For  gentle  the  feelings  thou  wakest — the  heart  can 

indulge  them  long. 
A  sirain  of  livelier  measure  may  rouse  and  quicken 

its  play ; 
But  short  and  fleeting  the  pleasure — the  gentle  only 

can  stay. 

ASYXARTETE. 

MERRILY,  merrily  rings  the  joyous  shout  of  harvest- 
home  : 

Merrily,  merrily  springs  the  homeward  bark  through 
dashing  foam. 

Gaily  the  villagers  leap,  as  red  and  ripe  the  vintage 
flows : 

Lightly  and  brightly  they  sweep,  the  glancing 
swords,  as  the  conflict  glows. 

Bursts,  in  its  fullness,  the  heart,  in  laugh  and  shout, 

in  festive  song ; 
So  when  the  labour  is  done — so  when  toil  strives 

along. 
Hope  cheers  the  combatant  on ;  in  pride  and  joy 

the  victor  sings : 
Crows,  'mid  the  fight,  the  cock — conqueror  then 

claps  his  wings. 


'216  CLASSIC    MELODIES. 

GALLIAMBIC. 

THE  clouds  roll  from  the    mountains  ;  the  storm 

sweeps  o'er  the  plain  ; 
And  the  boldest  .shrink  in  terror ;  the  proudest 

shrike  with  fear. 

The  scared  soldiers  are  flying,  'mid  hail  and  dash 
ing  rnin  ; 

And  the  ground  thickly  is  covered  with  scattered 
shield  and  spear. 

With  loud  hurst,  as  of  thunder,  'mid  a  wide  whirl 
wind  of  lire, 
From  the  high   heaven,  in  glory,  descends  the 

god  of  war. 

The  fearless  hero,  exulting, beholds  his  warrior  sire: 
And  he   mounts,  joyous,  beside  him,  the   briiiht 
triumphal  car. 

Aloft  sweeps  it  to  heaven,  and  the  white  steeds,  as 

they  fly 
Over  clouds,  rolling  like  surges,  arc  dashing  the 

lightnings  around. 
The  eye  in  vain  can  follow  their  quick  flight  through 

the  sky  ; 

From  mountain   far  to  mountain,  they   leap   at 
everv  bound. 


CLASSIC    MELODIES.  21? 

Weep  not  your  king,  ye  Romans!  for  he  now  is  a 

god  above. 
Lute,  when  alone,  I  saw  him,  and  lie  rose  like  a 

tower  of  light. 
Lofty  and  stern,  he  met  me  :  lie  seemed  like  a  son 

of  Jove. 

Far  through  the  darkness   glittered   his  armour, 
intensely  bright. 

"  Go  now,  and  tell  my  people" — he  spake  in  solemn 

tone  ; 

And  as  I  heard,  T  trembled,  and  listened  with  ho 
liest  awe— — 

"  I  am  their  guardian  genius — I  dwell  by  the  high 
est  throne  : 

Bid  them  be  wise  and  temperate,  and  reverent  to 
faith  and  law !" 


SATURMAX. 

A    SHOUT — a   shout   for   Codes,  brave  among  the 

bravest ! 
For  lie  the  bridge  defended,  and  fearless  swam  the  ' 

river. 

A  wreath  for  noble  Codes — a  civic  wreath  forever ! 
lie  saved  our  sacred  city — glory  crown  the  hero! 
19* 


218  CLASSIC     MELODIES. 

A    shout — a  shout    for    Codes !    Toll  the   gallant 

story, 
O !  tell   it  to  your  children,  and  they  shall  tell  it 

farther. 

On  the  bridge  lie  fronted  all  Porsonna's  army  : 
Spear  and  arrow  round  him  flew — alone  he  braved 

them. 

A  shout — a   shout  for  Code's !   Now   the   bridge,  is 

broken, 

And  see!  he  plunges  headlong  in  the  foaming  river, 
lie  steins  the  flood  undaunted;  his  joyous  friends 

embrace  him — 
lie  has*  saved  our  city — twine   the  wreath  around 

him ! 


SAPPHIC. 

SOFT  he  sleeps,  where  lloweth  the  winding  river 
Winds  blow  lijjht ;  they  dare  not  awake  the  sleeper- 
One  so  young  and  lovely,  so  full  of  beauty. 
Grandeur  and  glory. 

Soft  he  sleeps,  a  child  on  his  cross  reposing — 
Smiles  in  peace,  unknowing  of  future  sorrows ; 
Bright  and  pure,  as  spirit  of  life — as  rose-bud, 
Fresh  in  his  beauty. 


CLASSIC     MELODIES.  219 

. 

Yet  that  look  reveals,  in  its  pensive  sweetness, 
Deep  ami  holy  hive,  that  will  after  lead  him 
Forth  to  heal  ami  save,  and  to  higher  being 
Kindly  allure  us. 

Now  that  cross  the  couch,  where  he  sweetly  slum 
bers  : 

When  his  deeds  of  love  have  alarmed  and  mad 
dened, 

On  that  cross,  in  death,  he  shall  yiel:i  his  spirit 
Hack  to  its  hraven. 

ALCAIC. 

To  arms !  to  arms !  the  trumpet  is  summoning. 
What  heart  is  cold,  wh«in  glory  awakens  us! 

When  youth, for  hearth  and  shrine  contending, 
Hush  to  the  shock,  and  in  death  are  happy! 

A  holy  feeling  stirs,  as  the  signal  sounds. 
To  die  for  home,  how  high  and  how  glorious! 

The  recreant  only  hears  and  trembles. 
Give  me  my  sword — I  will  haste  and  meet  them. 

Raise  high  the  song — the  foe  is  discomfited! 
Our  sacred  soil  untouched  and  unsullied ! 

With  laurel  wreathed,  by  loved  ones  greeted, 
Proudly  we  move,  as  the  pxau  echoes. 


220  CLASSIC    MELODIES. 


ASCLE1MADIAN. 

I. 

NOT  for  wealth  or  for  power,  conquest  or  victory — 
Not  for  shout  ami  applause,  honour  and  dignity, 
Speeds  my  soul  to  the  strife  ;  higher  and  holier 
Is  the  feeling  that  wakens  me. 

Duty  calls  me  to  yield  life  and  its  happiness, 
Calls   me   to   part   from   friend,  part   from  a  dearer 

one — 
Duty  calls/and  I  know,  honours  immortal  wait, 

Kvcn  when  earth  has  forgotten  me. 

So  I  rush  to  the  strife — rush   where   the   bravest 

yield. 

They  only  look  to  renown  ;  mightier  impulses 
Uear  me  on,  as  with  wings — on,  till,  victorious, 

Death  I  greet  as  the  foe  retires. 


11. 


WHEN*  the  rose  is  in  bloom,  violets  opening, 
Fresh  and  dewy,  their  leaves,  let  me,  in  early  mom, 

Wake  the  slumbering  echoes, 
Till  the  mountains  have  caught  the  sound  : 


CLASS-IC   MELODIES.  221 

Till  from  loftiest  height,  deep  to  the  winding  dell, 
Cave  and  forest  repeat,  vocal,  my  minstrelsy, 

As  if  dryad  were  greeting 
Sweetly  tlie  tones  of  my  alpine  horn. 

Or  when  twilight  grows  dim,  far  in  the  rosy  west, 
And  o'er  green  wood  and  crag,  sparkles  the  evening 

star, 

Let  me  hear,  in  the  distance, 
Faintly  the  voice  of  the  vesper  hymn. 

\\  here    the    lake   spreads    its   wave,   clear  to   the 

rising  moon, 
OYr  the  water  it  steals,  whispers  along  the  shores, 

As  if  song  of  I'ndine 
Rose  from  her  hall  in  the  deep  below. 


SONUS  FOR  NATIONAL  AIRS. 


[The  following  sonns  have  f»ecn  written  to  accompany  different 
National  Airs,  and  compose  hut  a  small  part  of  an  extended  se 
ries.  The  verse  has  !>een  formed  in  all,  except  those  adapted  to 
the  Gorman  airs,  on  thr  rhythm  of  the  music,  not  exactly  note  for 
note,  but  so  as  to  «:ive  a  corresponding  flow  and  expression.  In 
the  German  series,  the  verse  of  the  original  German  son^s  has 
!»een  followed,  with  a  few  slight  deviations,  in  most  instances,  to 
suit  more  exactly  the  rhythm  of  the  airs.  The  Norwegian  airs 
are  taken  from  Dei-went  Conway's  Journry  through  Norway, 
«fce.  The  German  scries  is  taken  from  an  old  German  Conviv 
ial  Sons-Rook  (  7*<i.*rA»7i.WA  fiir  Frcumle  </»r  Frnulc.)  The  airs 
of  the  first  ten  were  composed '»>"  J.  A.  P.  Schnltz  ;  tlmsi-  of  the 
rtMn.iining  eiiiiit,  by  J.  F.  Reichardt.  The  mottos  pr«-tl\«id  indi 
cate  the  oriirinal  son-is  and  their  authors.  The  Russian  sj>oci- 
mens  are  from  a  small  collection  of  Russian  popular  airs  accom- 
ponying  Gu-tze*s  Collection  of  Russian  Popular  Po«-try  (Stim- 
inrndtsRuKfijichen  Volks  in  Ijnlrrn :)  the  Bohemian,  from  an 
extensive  series  of  popular  airs  accompanying  the  Collection  of 
Bohemian  Popular  Poetn*  by  Rittcr  von  RittcrsKerjr  (Czfskr 
Aarorfwj"  Pjsnit:)  the  Gaelic,  from  a  small  collection  of  genuine 
Gaelic  airs,  in  Logan's  Scotish  Gael :  and  the  Welsh,  except  the 
Rising  of  the  Lark,  from  a  collection  of  old  Welsh  tunes  in  E. 
Jones's  Bardie  Museum.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  remark  that  the 
poetn-is,  in  most  instances,  adapted  to  the  national  or  particular 
character  of  the  air  or  song  which  it  was  intended  to  accompany.] 


SON  OS    FOR    NATIONAL    AIRS.  223 

NORWEGIAN. 

i 
I.  "  National  Air." 

YE  sons  of  sin-s,  who  fought  and  Wed 

For  liberty  arid  glory, 
Whose  fume,  shall  ever  wider  spread 

Till  Time  is  bent  and  hoary — 
Awake  to  meft  the  invading  foe  ! 

House  at  the  call  of  danger! 
Heat  down  again  his  standard  low, 

And  backward  hurl  the  stranger ! 

They  knew  no  fear,  those  sires  of  old — 

'Mid  swords  and  bayonets  clashing, 
Still  hiirh  they  bore  their  banner's  fold, 

Its  stars,  like  lightnings,  flashing. 
Be  like  those  sires ! — With  freeborn  might, 

Renew  the  deeds  of  story  ! 
Who  lives,  .shall  win  a  wreath  of  lijjht — 

Wrho  falls,  shall  sle«*p  in  irlory  ! 


II.  "  Mountain  Air." 

Soxs  of  the  chase,  awake  ! 
Haste,  see  the  morning  break ! 
Wake  to  the  horn ! 


224  SONGS    FOR    NATIONAL    AIRS. 

Ere  fades  the  morning  star, 
Echoes,  'round  crag  and  scar, 
Proudly  its  blast  afar — 
Far  rings  the  horn  ! 

Hark  to  the  bay  of  hound, 
Tossed  from  the  mountains  'round ! 

Hark  to  the  horn  ! 
Mount — mount,  and  hark-away! 
Bright  dawns  the  glorious  day — 
Soon  we've  the  stag  at  bay — 

Loud  wind  the  horn ! 


GERMAN. 

I.  THE  FLOWER  OK  LIBERTY*. 
EH  giet't  dor  Platzchcn  u!>rr.ill. — STOLLBERG. 

THERE  is  no  land,  so  fair  and  bright, 
As  this,  where  first  I  drew  the  light  : 
There  is  no  land,  so  dear  to  me, 
As  this,  that  bears  the  strong  and  free, 
The  cradle  home  of  liberty ! 
Here  blooms  a  sweeter  flower, 
Than  aught  in  orient  bower. 


SOX  OS    FOR    NATIONAL    AIRS.  220 

The  flower  of  freedom,  fair  and  bright, 
Here  spreads  its  leaves  of  roseate  light. 
Yes,  freedom's  flower  here,  fair  and  bright. 
Unfolds  its  leaves  of  roseate  lijrht ! 

o 

Though  far  around  the  world  I  roam, 
My  heart  still  lingers  for  its  home ; 
And  even  where  spring  forever  dwells, 
Eaeli  flower,  I  meet,  but  only  tells 
Of  that,  for  which  my  boson*  swells. 

The  flower  that  graces  free 

Thy  temple,  Liberty ! 
Though  far  away  my  steps  may  roam, 
That  flower  still  wins  me  back  to  home. 
Yes,  far  away  my  steps  may  roam, 
That  flower  still  wins  me  back  to  home ! 


II.  THE  CHAIV  OF  LOVE. 
Wir  trinkon,  kiihl  umschatttt — Voss. 

O  !  THERE  are  links,  that  bind  us, 

Of  magic  power — 
The  links,  that  softly  twined  us 

In  Eden's  hour. 
20 


226  SONGS    FOR    NATIONAL    AIRS. 

Joy  wreaths  his  flowers  around  them, 
And  love  with  silk  has  bound  them. 
0!  there's  a  charm,  no  tongue  can  tell ; 
But  still  the  heart,  with  hidden  swell, 
Can  speak  it  well! 

That  chain— the  freeman  wears  it, 
With  generous  pride  : — 

That  chain— the  hero  bears  it, 
With  haughty  stride. 

Yes,  lion  hearts  receive  it, 

As  fain-  lingers  weave  it. 

Subdued  by  love,  they  still  can  dare 

The  battle'field,  and  tearless  there 
Its  dangers  share ! 


III.  THE  PATRIOT. 
Dass  nie  ein  Land  zu  kcincr  Zcit- 

WHO  loves  his  country,  firm  will  stand 

To  meet  the  fierce  invader ; 
Will  lift  his  sword,  with  eamest  hand, 

To  aid  her. 

He  knows  no  fear,  when  danger  calls 
The  patriot  to  his  country's  walls: 


SONGS    FOR    NATIONAL    AIRS.  227 

When  danger  forth  the  patriot  calls, 
Fearless  he  lights,  and  willing  falls. 

So  stood  our  fathers,  side  by  side, 
In  freedom's  cause  victorious, 
When  back  recoiled  the  invading  tide, 

Inglorious. 

And  when  our  country  calls  again, 
0  !•  be  her  voice  not  heard  in  vain : 
When  loud  our  country  calls  again, 
Our  home  shall  be  the  tented  plain ! 


IV.  WEALTH  OF  SOUL. 
Frcund,  ich  nchte  nicht  des  Mahlcs — Voss. 

NOT  for  gold,  and  not  for  splendour ; 

Not  for  crown  or  throne — 
No — never  will  my  soul  surrender 

What  it  holds  its  own. 
Thoy  may  dote  on  piles  of  treasure — 
They  may  swim  in  streams  of  pleasure — 
Poor  their  gain ! 
Poor  their  gain ! 
Poor,  ah  !  poor  beyond  all  measure  ! 

Vain,  O!  vain! 
Only  slavery's  chain. 


228  SONGS     FOR     NATIONAL     AIRS 

Not  for  all  that  wealth  can  oiler, 

Would  I  check  my  soul — 
No — not  for  regal  bounty,  suffer 

Slavery's  base  control. 
Ever  in  my  own  dominion, 
I  would  mount  on  eagle's  pinion, 
Free  as  light ! 
Free  as  light  ! 
Far  above  the  tyrant's  minion, 

Wing  my  flight, 
Nerved  with  strong  delight. 


V.  TIIK  FKSTIVE  EVKNIXO. 
Friort  <!or  Pol  niit  kalt»  m  Srhinunrr — Voss. 

CHEERFUL  glows  the  festive  chamber.; 

In  the  circle  pleasure  smiles : 
Mounts  the  flame,  like  wreaths  of  amber ; 

Bright  as  love,  its  warmth  beguiles. 
Glad  the  heart  with  joy  is  lighted  ; 
Hand  with  hand,  in  faith,  is  plighted, 

As  around  the  goblet  flows. 
Fill — fill — fill,  and  quail" the  liquid  rose! 
Bright  it  glows — 

O!  how  bright  the  bosom  glows. 


80  NO  8     FOR     NATIONAL     AIRS. 

Pure  as  light,  our  social  meeting : 

Here  no  passion  dares  invade. 
Joys  we  know,  not  light  and  fleeting : 

Flowers  we  twine,  that  never  fade. 
Ours  are  links,  not  time  can  sever: 
Brighter  still  they  glow  forever— 

(How  in  yon  eternal  day. 
Xo — no — no,  ye  will  not  pass  away — 
Ye  will  stay — 

Social  joys,  furover  stay  ! 


VI.  OUR  COUNTRY. 
Hckritnzt  mil  Latil*  dwi  liolien  vollon  Richer-— Ci..U*DIua. 

THK  vine  may  glow,  with  purple  clusters  bending, 

Where  proudly  flows  the  Rhine, 
Or  richer  pomp  to  classic  ruins  lending, 

Kound  tower  and  temple  twine. 

Wo  need  no  vine,  our  country's  hills  to  brighten  : 

We  need  no  boasted  >viuc. 
Ho  ours  the  sails,  that  o'er  the  ocean  whiten, 

Around  the  masted  pine. 
20* 


230  SONGS     FOR     NATIONAL    AIRS. 

Be  ours  the  nervy  hands  that  spread  and  furl  them, 

With  gallant  hearts  to  dare — 

Ours   freedom's  bolts,   with   sinewy  arms    to  hurl 
them, 

When  threatening  comes  the  war. 

Mild  as  the  morn,  in  peace,  our  starry  splendour 

Afar  shall  light  the  main. 
That  flag  may  perish — never  shall  surrender 

To  boastful  pride  again  ! 


VII.  WASHINGTON. 
Fullt  an  die  Gliiscr,  fiillt  bis  obon — Voss. 

FILL — fill  your  glasses — brim  them  over  ! 

We  drink  a  health  of  high  renown  ! 
No  patriot  brow  shall  glory  ever 

With  brighter  wreaths  of  honour  crown! 
Our  country's  Sire! — with  fond  emotion, 
With  firm  resolve,  and  deep  devotion. 
Around  our  Union's  altar  llame, 
Here  we  invoke  his  sacred  name! 

That  name  shall  be  our  watchword  ever, 
When  danger  threats,  or  foe  is  nigh. 


SONGS     FOR    NATIONAL    AIRS.  231 

Curst  be  the  hand  that  dare  dissever 
The  holy  bond,  we  prize  so  high. 
Do  thou,  blest  shade!  this  union  cherish. 
Thy  memory  here  shall  never  perisli — 
Long  as  thy  deeds  shall  here  remain, 
0 !  bind  us  in  thy  golden  chain. 


VIII.  LIBERTY. 
I  in  Hut  d««r  Kn-vln-it  stimtuct  an — 

HEX  HATH  our  country's  Hag  we  stand, 

And  give  our  hearts  to  thee, 
Bright  power,  who  steel'st  and  ncrv'st  our  hand, 

Thou  first  born,  Liberty! 
Here,  on  our  swords  we  swear  to  give 
Our  willing  lives,  that  thou  mav'st  live ! 


For  tlioc,  the  Spartan  youth  of  old, 
To  death'  devoted,  fell ! 

Thy  spirit  made  the  Roman  bold, 
And  fired  the  patriot  Tell ! 

Our  sires,  on  Bunker,  fought  for  tht1 

Undaunted  fought,  and  we  are  free ! 

Run  up  our  starry  flag  on  high ! 
No  storm  shall  rend  its  folds. 


2  SONGS    FOR     NATIONAL    A  1 II  S  . 

On,  like  a  meteor,  through  the  sky, 

Its  steady  course  it  holds. 
Thus  high  in  heaven  our  flag  unfurled— 
(Jo,  hear  it,  Freedom,  round  the  world! 


IX.  THE  BANQUET. 

Dem  Ku.dlcin,  das  gcljohren  ward — STOLLBERG. 

LOUD  rings  the  golden  cup  of  joy, 

Amid  the  banquet  halls, 
And  manhood,  light  as  sportful  boy, 

For  mirth  and  music  calls. 
Give  loose  to  pleasure  !  send  it  free  ! 

O  !  send  it  free, 
To  roam  in  wildest  liberty. 

CHORl'S. 

Our  hearts  are  free  ! 
They  mount  in  wildest  liberty! 

As  bird  on  pinion  swift  and  strong. 

In  airy  flight  we  play, 
And  as  a  bird's,  our  festive  song, 

Full  echoing,  floats  away. 


SONGS    FOR    NATIONAL    AIRS.  233 

Joy  crowns  the  banquet !     We  arc  free ! 

O  !  we  arc  free  ; 
Hut  pure  and  high  our  liberty ! 

C110RI  «. 

Yes,  we  are  free ; 
Hut  pure  and  high  our  liberty ! 


X.  SPRING. 
Per  Fruhlins  ist  eckoiamon — STOLLBERO. 

THE  spring — the  spring  is  coming; 
The  birds  are  merrily  singing — 
The  spring — the  spring  is  coming; 

We  hear  the  nightingale— 
In  shade  of  rose,  at  evening, 

We  hear  the  nightingale. 

The  yellow  buds  arc  breaking  ; 
The  (lowers  in  meadow  are  blowing; 
And  gentle  winds  are  playing 

Along  the  grassy  vale, 
Around  the  airy  mountain, 

And  down  the  grassy  vale. 

The  spring — the  spring  is  with  us, 
And  light  the  swallow  is  flitting — 


231  SONGS    FOR     NATIONAL    AIRS. 

The  spring — the  spring  is  with  us — 
It  brings  the  nightingale — 

In  cool  of  shady  evening, 
It  brings  the  nightingale. 


XI.    THK  SEASONS. 
Dor  Herbst  beginnt— SCIIULZ. 

THE  Spring  is  gone, 

And,  one  by  one, 
The  blossoms  are  withered  and  faded 

The  Summer,  too, 

Is  almost  through, 
And  thinner  the  fountain  is  shaded. 

Come,  Autumn,  come ! 

Thou  load's!  me  home  : 
The  birds  of  the  Summer  are  flying. 

Thou  wilt  not  stay, 

But  stoat's!  away, 
And  Winter  behind  thcc  is  .sighing. 

The  stars  are  bright, 

This  winter  n\»\\i : 
The  lake  is  merrily  ringing. 

The  skater  there, 

To  the  frosty  air, 
His  open  bosom  is  flinging. 


SONGS    FOR    NATIONAL    AIRS.  235 

But  Spring  again 

Shall  wake  the  plain, 
And  showers  the  blossoms  sprinkle. 

As  through  the  vale 

Light  blows  the  gale, 
The  lake  shall  curl  and  crinkle. 

And  Summer,  thou, 

With  dripping  brow, 
Shalt  plunge  in  the  shady  river, 

When  golden  day 

Is  on  his  way, 
And  field  and  meadow  quiver. 

But,  Autumn,  come ! 

I  welcome  home 
Fallen  leaves  and  faded  flowers. 

Thy  sky  is  blue, 

And  soft  as  dew, 
Thy  still  and  gentle  hours. 


XII.    THE  BOATMEN  OF  THE  RHINE. 
Ein  Let»enf  vie  im  Parodies — HIELTY. 

A  JOYOUS  life,  like  Paradise, 

We  lead  along  the  Rhine, 
From  where  it  springs  'mid  glacier  ice, 

To  where  it  meets  the  brine. 


SONC5S    FOR    NATIONAL    AIRS. 

By  mountain  larin,  ami  moated  tower, 

By  ancient  town,  wo  glide: 
By  vine-clad  hill,  and  fa  Moil  bower, 

By  castled  rock,  we  ride. 

'Mid  Alpine  song,  we  float  along; 

Through  field  and  meadow  stray: 
Where  glows  the  vine,  in  purple  tune, 

We  win  our  easy  way. 
We  left  the  free,  brave  Tell,  with  thee. 

Their  earliest  rights  to  keep  : 
Now  through  a  realm,  that  once  was  free, 

We  hasten  to  the  deep. 


XIII.    FESTIVITY. 
Frohlich  to'nt  dcr  Bochcrklnng — STOLLBKRO. 

JOYOUS  rings  the  goblet's  chime, 

In  our  merry  meeting; 
And  our  cheerful  hearts  keep  time, 
As  the  hours  are  lleeting. 
Wake  the  echoes  round  us! 
Friendship's  chain  has  bound  us ! 
Only  love  can  wound  us ! 
Fill  your  glasses — fill  them  o'er ! 
Drink,  and  care  shall  vex  no  more ! 


80NOS    FOR    NATIONAL    AIRS.  237 

Joy  ascends  on  purple  wings — 

Golflon  clouds  around  him : 
Lightly  to  tin;  wind  ho  flings . 
Kvery  chain  that,  hound  him. 
From  his  heaven  descending, 
See  him  o'er  us  bfMid'nif, 
Brightest  influence  lending! 
Fill  your  glasses — fill  them  high! 
Quick  as  light,  the  minutes  Ilv. 


XIV.    YOUTH. 
Kosrn  auf  den  Wog  gc-strcut — HCKI.TV. 

ROSES  8 trowed  along  my  way — 

Round  me  songs  of  gladness — 
On  I  speed  in  youthful  play ; 

Mine  nor  care  nor  sadness. 
By  me  pleasure  trips  along, 

Maid  with  eye  bright  glancing ; 
Round  the  woods  repeat  her  song, 

As  their  leaves  are  dancing. 

Gaily  thus  we  trip  it  on, 
Frolic  youth  and  pleasure, 

Gaily,  as  the  moments  run 
By,  in  lightest  measure. 
21 


238 


SONGS    FOR    NATIONAL    AIRS 

While  the  spring  of  life  is  new, 
Fresh  its  roses  blowing, 

So  its  early  joys  pursue— 
Quick  the  stream  is  flowing. 


XV.    THE  VINTAGE. 
BokrUnzct  die  Tonncu— H«KLTY. 

THE  vines  are  deep  blushing; 

The  vintage  is  nigh ; 
And  plenty  is  gushing, 

In  showers,  from  the  sky. 
Bright  spirits  are  fleeting, 
On  white  clouds,  along ; 
And  glad  hearts  arc  greeting 
Their  presence  with  song. 

The  youth  and  the  maiden  ^ 

Now  haste  to  the  vine ; 
The  choicest  of  clusters 

They  gracefully  twine : 
\Vith  music  and  dances, 

They  bear  them  away — 
Their  toil  is  but  pastime  ; 

Their  labour  is  play. 


SONGS    FOR    NATIONAL    AIRS.  239 

O'er  hill,  and  o'er  valley, 

Is  calm  and  repose ; 
The  voice  of  the  fountain 

Is  hushed  as  it  flows ; 
The  lake,  too,  is  sleeping, 

Unrullled  its  breast : 
All  nature  is  keeping 

A  sabbath  of  rest. 

The  vintage  is  gathered; 

The  harvest  is  in  ; 
The  fruitage  of  autumn 

Is  piled  in  its  bin : 
The  swallows  are  flitting 

To  sunnier  shore ; 
We  care  not  for  winter — 

We've  plenty  in  store. 


XVI.    SPRING. 
Frewle  jul>clt ;  Licbe  waltet — MATTHISSOX. 

MIRTH  is  shouting — joy  is  singing. 
Far  o'er  hill,  o'er  vale  and  plain ! 

Love  his  merry  flight  is  winging 
Through  the  flowery  groves  again. 


10  S  O  X  O  S    FOR    NATIONAL    AIRS. 

Even  the  secret  forest  feeleth, 

Trembling  deep,  his  ma«»ic  power. 

Round  the  hill,  at  evening,  stealeth 
Music,  gentle  as  the  hour. 

Spring  is  with  us — flowers  are. Mowing; 

Round  their  leaves  the  west  wind  plays 
As  afar  their  hreath  is  Mowing, 

To  their  couch  he  hastes,  and  stays. 
Every  sound,  that  nature  utters, 

Blends  in  harmony  with  all — 
Bee  that  hums,  and  leaf  that  Mutters, 

Whispering  wind,  and  waterfall. 


XVII.     EVKXIXO. 
Phubus  eilot,  n;tch  dor  Rnse — KtEPKKN. 

EVENING  o'er  the  vales  descending, 
Fresh  the  wind  from  mountain  blows  ; 

And  the  stars,  their  influence  lending, 
Win  the  labourer  to  repose. 

Night  resumes  her  silent  reign — 

Shadowy  coolness  soothes  again ! 

CHORl'S. 

Blessings  on  her  gentle  reign  ! 
Coolness  soothes  our  hearts  again. 


80NOS     FOR     NATIONAL    AIRS.  211 

Dimly  o'er  the  mountain  fading, 

Sunset  glories  die  away. 
Night,  each  hue  of  beauty  shading, 

Robes  the  earth  in  dun  array. 
But  she  brings  us  still  repose — 
Soft  our  wearied  eyelids  close  ! 

CHORUS. 

Grateful  is  her  still  repose — 
Pressed  by  sleep,  our  eyelids  close ! 


XVJH.    HOPE. 
Hoflnung,  Hofinung,  immcr  griin — HERDER. 

HOPE  !  tliou  art  my  only  friend — 

When  the  light,  that  shone  around  me* 
AH  has  fled,  and  grief  has  bound  me, 
Though  not  love  his  influence  lend, 
Thou,  0  !   Hope,  art  still  my  friend. 

All  the  flowers  of  life  may  wither, 
Friend  and  lover,  glory,  sold — 

All  may  fly,  we  know  not  whither, 
But  thy  arms  shall  still  enfold. 
21* 


2-12  SOX  08    FOR     NATIONAL     AIRS. 

Hope !  tliou  ever  art  my  friend — 

Though  my  dearest  joys  should  leave  me, 
Fate  of  all  1  loved  bereave  me, 

Thou  a  cheering  light  wilt  send, 

Still,  O!  Hope,  my  only  friend. 

All  that  wins  the  heart  is  fleeting ; 

Ere  'tis  known,  it  flits  away, 
Ever  from  our  grasp  retreating — 

Thou,  O!   Hope,  alone  wilt  stay. 


RUSSIAN. 

I.    THK  BATTLE  CALL. 
Ach  ty  IN>U',  moi»  i>olc  czistoc — 
Ah!  thou  plain,  my  open  plain — 

LOUD  rings  the  battle  trumpet, 
Far  resounding,  far  swelling  ! 
Rouse,  heroes,  rouse  to  the  conflict ! 
See,  yonder  the  dark  foe 
Sweeps,  like  a  winter  storm! 

On  speeds  the  fierce  invader, 
Wild  as  ocean  high  heaving ! 
Strong  nerve  ye,  boldly  to  meet  him ! 
Back  hurl  him,  as  dashed  wave 
Rolls  from  the  rock-bound  shore ! 


SOX  OS    FOR     NATIONAL    AIRS.  .241 

Earth  far  has  shook  beneath  him. 
All  invading,  all  subduing! 
Yet  fear  not — country  is  sacred  ! 
Who  arms  for  his  loved  home, 
Fights  with  the  sword  of  heaven ! 


II. 


\Vsj>omni,  wsjioiiini,  moy  liul>cznoy, 
Moiu  prcz'niuju  liulwv— — 

Think,  O!  think,  U-lovcd, 
Of  rny  curly  love — 

THINK,  O  !  think,  how  much  thou  lov'dst  me, 
When  my  cheek  was  fresh  and  fair. 
Do  not  coldly  now  forget  me, 
Though  its  bloom  has  gone ! 

Think  how  oft  we  sat  together ! 
Happy  were  our  moments  then. 
Then  my  eye  was  bright  with  pleasure- 
Now  'tis  dimmed  with  tears. 

Like  a  rose,  was  then  my  beauty, 

Rose  that  opens  first  in  spring. 

Then  my  charms  could  more  allure  thee — 

I  could  love  not  more.. 


11  SONUS    FOR    NATIONAL    AIRS 

Leave,  O !  leave  me  not  forsaken — 
I  will  love  thee  ever  true. 
Pale  my  cheek,  and  sorrow-stricken — 
Love  still  lights  my  soul. 


III.    THE  WILLOW. 

Iwuszka,  iwuszka  zclrnaia  moia — 
Willow,  my  green  willow — 

BRIGHT  flows  the  meadow  stream,  and  o'er  it  bends 

the  willow — 
There  sat  the  maid  I  love,  and  wove  her  flowers  in 

garlands : 
There  sits  no  gentle  maid — O !  canst  thou  tell  me, 

willow, 
Where  I  can  find  the  maid,  that  sat  at  evening  by 

thce  ? 

Light  on  the  meadow  stream,  there  floats  a  rosy 

garland — 
Fair  maiden  wove  the  flowers,  and  dropped  them  in 

the  water. 
"  Go,  garland,"  thus  she  said,  "  and  whisper  to  my 

lover : 
True  ever  is  thy  love — her  heart  will  ne'er  forget 

thee." 


80N08    FOR    NATIONAL    AIRS.  245 

Low  droops  the  willow-tree — its  leaf  is  pale  and 

yellow : 
There  flows  no  meadow  stream — the  summer  sun 

has  dried  it. 
Brown   all  the   grass   below — no   maiden  gathers 

flowers  ; 
Sits  there  no  more  at  eve,  to  weave  her  flowers  in 

garlands. 

Sec !    on   the   pebbles  lies  a  soiled   and  withered 

garland — 

Such  is  my  withered  heart,  and  so  my  hope  has  faded. 
False  maiden  wove  the  flowers,  and  cast  them  in 

the  water — 
Soon  dried  the  stream  away,  and  withered  lay  the 

garland. 


BOHEMIAN. 
I.    BIRD  OP^TIIE  MorxTAix. 

Lasstowic/.ka  Ijta,  Ijta, 
Powjcla  z'o  swjtii  — 


The  swallow  is  llj'inj,  is  flying; 
He  tells  me,  it  dawns  — 

BIRD  of  the  mountain,  sweetly  thou  singest  — 
O  !  sweet  thy  sonjj  ! 

Over  the  fountain,  high  in  the  branches, 
Thou  sitt'st  alone. 


210  SONGS    FOK     NATIONAL    AIRS. 

There  oft,  at  evening,  I  linger  to  hear  thec 
Bird  of  the  mountain,  sweetly  thou  singest- 
O  !  sweet  thy  song ! 

Bird  of  the  mountain,  why  art  thou  ever 
So  sad  and  lone  ! 

Only  I  hear  thee  breaking  the  silence, 
So  deep  around. 

Art  thou  the  spirit  of  heart-broken  maiden  ?• 

Bird  of  the  mountain,  why  art  thou  ever 
So  sad  and  lone  ! 


II.    THE  BIRD  THAT  HAS  LOST  ITS  Yocxo. 
\Vy  j.anenky  scdlsky,  ge  was  tu  gen  dwanact — 
WHY  so  sadlv  sin^'st  thou? 

^ 

Hast  thou  lost  thy  loved  one  ? 

Why  art  thou  so  lonely, 

"Mid  the  woods  afar  ? 

"  They  have  stolen  all  my  young  ones— 

That  is  why  so  sad  my  song !" 

Cease  thy  song  of  sorrow ! 
Spring  is  all  around  thee — 
Other  loves  may  bless  thee — 


SONGS    FOR    NATIONAL    AIRS.  247 

Break  not  so  thy  heart ! 

"  They  have  stolen  all  my  loved  ones — 

Other  !oves  I  cannot  know !" 


III.      DrSHKA.* 

Prawda  a  z'adna  lex* — 
1. 

DUSIIKA,  fairest  of  maddens! 
Long'  have  I  sought  for  thy  love. 
Long  have  I  courted  thcc  ; 
Long  have  I  lingered  ; 
Yet  riot  a  smile  have  I  won. 
Still  thou  art  dear  to  me — 
Ever  art  dear  to  me ; 


*  The  two  sonps,  under  this  head,  were  written  to  accompany  the 
same  air,  as  differently  modified  in  its  time.  The  original  time  of 
the  air  is  triple  (3-1.)  with  a  syncopated  note  (a  pointed  fourth)  in 
the  middle  of  the  first  measure.  Th«-  second  s«»nsr.  not  including 
the  words  in  brackets,  is  adapted  to  this  time  :  including  the  words 
in  brackets,  it  is  adapted  to  a  triple  time,  in  which  the  first  measure 
is  resolved  into  a  uniform  series  of  eigiulis.  This  hist  modification 
has  a  much  slower  movement  than  the  preceding,  the  absolute  time 
of  wiiich  is  detennined  by  the  syncopated  note  in  the  tirst  measure. 
The  movement  of  the  verse  is  detennined,  the  other  lines  remain* 
ins:  the.  same,  by  the  varying  length  of  the  first  line  ;  quicker  when 
thrtt  is  shorter,  and  slower  when  that  is  longer,  that  an  equilibrium 
of  time  may  be  preserved  throughout.  The  first  sonz  i*  adapted 
to  the  same  air,  in  G-8  time;  moving  by  triplets,  us  the  second  by 
couplets  of  syllables. 


218  SOXGS    FOR    NATIONAL    AIRS 

Ever  till  death  I  am  tliinc. 
Dushka,  fairest  of  maidens ! 
(Jive  me,  O !  give  me  thy  love. 

Dushka,  fairest  of  maidens! 
Turn  not  so  eoldly  away. 
Thou  wilt  remember  me, 
AYhen  they  have  left  thee, 
\Vhon  all  the  faithless  are  gone. 
Then  thou  wilt  think  of  me, 
Fondly  wilt  think  of  me. 
Know  I  am  faithful  and  true. 
Dushka,  fairest  of  maidens! 
Yield  me,  O  !  yield  me  thy  heart. 


2. 

DUSIIKA,  fairest  [dearest]  maiden ! 
Thou  art  still  my  only  love. 
When  the  early  blossom 
Of  thy  beauty  fades, 
Thou  wilt  find  me  ever  true. 
Other  youths  may  leave  thee, 
\Vhen  thy  roses  wither ; 
Still  my  heart  is  ever  thine. 
Dushka,  fairest  [dearest]  maiden! 
Thou  art  still  mv  only  love. 


SONUS    FOR    NATIONAL    AIRS 

Dushka,  fairest  [dearest]  maiden ! 
'Thou  wilt  ever  be  my  love. 
Xot,  like  binl  of  summer, 
Do  I  flh  away ; 
Kven  in  winter  I  remain. 
I  will  never  leave  thee, 
Though  the  storm  he  rising; 
Then  I'll  press  thee  to  my  heart. 
J)nshk;t,  fairest  [Nearest]  maiden! 
Thou  wilt  ever  '»<•  mv  love. 


GAELIC. 

n  IJocxn. 
lorram  Fliir  a  Blmfa."— (Thr  Sons  of  the  Boatmen.) 

O'ER  the  foaming  sea, 
Far  the  ship  hastens 
To  the  jLrrecn  island, 
Where  my  love  dwells. 
There  we  meet,  love  ; 
Never  part  more, 
Till  our  eyes  close 
In  their  last  sleep. 
22 


250  SONGS    FOR    NATIONAL    AIRS 

Dear  me  swiftly  on, 
Fresh  and  fair  breezes, 
O'er  the  blue  ocean — 
Fill  my  white  sail! 
For  my  heart  longs 
For  its  dear  home — 
Longs  to  meet  her, 
"Whom  my  youth  loved. 

Yonder  rises  dim, 
OYr  the  dark  waters. 
Far  the  green  island, 
I  have  sought  long. 
Speed  thee,  swift  hark, 
As  a  dart  (lies  ! 
Soon  my  loved  shore 
I  shall  greet  again. 


II.  THE  TRYST. 
Rigliil  Thulaiohean.."— (Tulloch  Reel.) 

O  !  COME,  lassie,  come  and  meet  me  ! 
Come,  lassie,  to  the  hazel ! 
There,  lassie,  thou  hast  trysted, 
At  the  gloamin'  hour  to  meet  mo. 


SONGS    FOR    NATIONAL    AIRS.  251 

We  will  sit  beneath  its  shadow, 
As  the  gloamin'  light  is  fading, 
And  the  mist,  along  the  meadow, 

All  its  dewv  flowers  is  shadin". 

• 

We  will  sit,  and  talk  together — 
Tell  how  much  we  love  each  other; 
As  the  lumhs  among  the  heather, 
(Jentle  aye  to  one  another — 
With  a  kiss  of  love  and  kindness, 
Then  we'll  part,  to  inert  attain. 
O  !  rome,  lassie,  come  and  meet  me! 
Come,  lassie,  to  the  hazel! 
There,  lassie,  thou  hast  trysted, 
At  the  gloamin'  hour  to  meet  me. 

O  !  come,  lassie,  come  raid  meet  me  ! 

Come,  when  the  lambs  are  faulding — 

Conic  to  the  hazel,  lassie  ! 

I'll  be  early  there  to  meet  thee. 

Thou  wilt  na'  distrust  thy  laddie — 

Truthful  aye  he's  been  unto  thee  : 

He  has  ever  loeM  thee,  lassie — 

lie  will  ever  dearly  loe  thee. 

Now  the  heather  bells  are  swinging, 

And  the  gowany  turf  is  glowing, 

U  right  the  saugh,  and  gay  the  rowan, 

Red  the  rose,  and  green  the  rashes, 


S  O  X  «'  S    F  O  R    NAT!  O  \  A  1.    AIRS. 

Meet  nn%  lassie,  hv  the  hazi'l — 
Meet  me  hy  the  mountain  hum  ! 
O!  eomo,  lassie,  eome  and  meet  me! 
Come,  when  the  lamhs  are  faulding — 
Come  to  the  ha/.el,  lassie  !— 
I'll  he  earlv  there  to  meet  thee. 


111.  THK  LOVKK'S  L.OIKNT. 
Air—"  Cuilfliionn."—  iTho  Holly.) 


O!  OLOSKP  the  eye,  that  heained  so  kindly, 
Mild  as  the  morn,  when  it  first  mieloses— 
O  !  pale  the  lip.  that  smiled  so  fondly. 
Pure,  in  its  hue,  as  the  dewy  ruse. 
O  !  like  the  rose,  that  lip  has  faded  ; 
Cold  in  the  irrave  thy  form  reposes  ; 
Dark  —  dark  as  ni^ht,  my  soul  is  shaded  ; 
Full  as  the  fountain,  my  heart  i«o\v  Hows. 

Lon«j  shall  I  think  of  the  hours,  when  I  sat  with  thee, 
Under  the   shade    of  the    tryst  ing   tree,    at    silent 

gloaming  ; 
Loiiij  shall  1   dwell  on  the  scenes  I  have  viewed 

with  thee  ; 
But  I  shall  see  thee  no  more  again. 


SOX  OS     FOR     NATIO.V.A/,     A  /  R  S  .  l>.r>3 

Yet  shrill  f  never  forget  how  1  strayed  with  thee, 
Over  the  hills,  in  the  sunny  noon  of  April,  roaming ; 
N»-ver  forget  liow  in  childhood  I   played  with  thee, 
Hours,  that,  like  thee,  were  without  a  stain. 


jVr.      Cf..»N   !>«»SX.\L*S  Cf.iTHKRIN«i. 

A  Pihnich. 
Air— «*C«^a»lh  iia  Sit !»."—<  War  »>r  IVa^.) 

Ti»,  Clan  Donnal ! 
WiM  rings  the  pibroch   through  glf-n  and  through 

valley ; 

Loud  peals  the  slogan,  that  calls  you  to  war ! 
J  lasto  ! — Ooimal's  hold  warriors  on  yonder  hill  rally; 
High  bla/e  the  bale-fires  o'er  heath  and  o'er  moun 
tain  ; 
And  broad  waves  the  standard,  and  streams  afar. 

I'p,  Clan  Donnal ! 

.' jird  on  the  broad-sword,  and  on  with  the  tartan  ! 
Haste,  where  the  pipes  shrilly  waken  the  echoes. 
For  there  is  the  gathering  of  Donnal  to-day! 

Up,  Chin  Donnal ! 

Haste  ye  from  lake,  and  from  glen,  and  from  moun 
tain. 

From   forest   and   heath,    from  the    well    and    the 
fountain. 


251  SONGS    FOR     NATIONAL    AIK8. 

And  rush  ye,  like  eagles  who  sweep  to  their  quarry, 
Or  sons  of  the  mountain,  abroad  on  their  foray, 
Nor  think  of  aught  else,  but  the  loved  ones  behind 

you, 

Who  faithful  defenders,  in  battle,  shall  find  you — 
So  up,  and  away ! 

I7p,  ('Ian  Donna!  ! 

Haste  to  the  gathering,  as  hounds  in  the  morning 
Speed  where  the  horn  rings  o'er  heath  and  o'er 

hill ! 
Haste ! — Clansmen  should  spring  as  the  pipes  give 

their  warning- 
Dash  from  their    heights,    like   a   flood    from    its 

fountain, 
When  swelled  by  the  burst  of  a  cloud  to  its  fill. 

Up,  Clan  Donnal ! 

Trusty  and  faithful  we  ever  have  known  you— 
Fearless  and  true  were  your  fathers  before  you — 
Long  may  their  pride  and  their  glory  remain  ! 

Up,  Clan  Donnal ! 

On  through  the  torrent,  and  on  through  the  Driver, 
And  on  up  the   steep   where   the   mountain   sides 

shiver, 

For  spirits  of  heroes  are  hovering  o'er  you, 
And  vonder  the  Saxon  invader  before  vou — 


*ONO*    FOR    NATIONAL   A  I  ft  *  . 

On,  from  your  noil  with  your  goo<l  claymon-*  *w«?ep 


AIM!   high  at  the  fool  of  your   (trampiani   h«-«p 

them— 

So  up,  :uii]  away  ! 


WKLHH. 

f.* 

Air—  "MM.i'i  yr  (J»j<lMlil.ff—  (Tin-  Klowrr  <»r  i|,«  N,,rtl,,) 
I.    THIS  Ho*o  or 


OK  Ho*?!,  high  and  gloriou*,  nil**:  tho 

H?inl»,  wiih  hoary  hair,  like  utronrning  meteor! 

Striko  tho  hnrp.  in  martini  wymphouy  ! 

f'lom-    tllC    Ntr.'ltfl    111    NaillH'MN  ! 

Tin-  »liM'«U  of  oihi-r  <layx,  worthy 
!Jri«jht  MH  holy  h«>:ivriit  fair  UN  vi*rnnl 
S'rntiK  a«  iii(»uiit»iii  wolvrn,  lions  too  in  light, 
Milil  »»  April  Hlio\v<-r«,  in  their  peaceful  <!ayn, 
I'uling  rit(ht«M)u«ly,  i:oiii|tieriiiij;  nohly  — 
Surli,  nhm  !  fire  M<MTI  no  more. 


•  'I  i'.  ,ir  in  \\it*  iiMttincc  in  in  i|M;n!ruj*lr  tim«%  (1-1.)  Th'*  fir*? 
••!  tii»-  UMII:.^  iirn.fujMMVifii.'  i',  I"  wri'l'-n  w  i'li  u  «»yl!uMf  t-  ..... 
ii'»i«  ••!  tin  ni'imr.  Tix-  N«'<  *'fnl  in  wntN'M  in  ll>«-  r'';'i!.ir  m»  trim! 
fliyiliiii  of  tin-  uir,  with  ufi!v  onr  «i)|l,»l.|<-  »••  «  •«  !i  <  i/!.f!(  «.f  t  in-  . 
'••it  «rh  a  rrjM'uf  of  tlir  hr^i  f<»nr  hn»"«.  lly  r»'»i»lin.'  jnfJir  w&rtld 
Inn-  of  i!,r  f)r«i  |»i«  «•«•,  "  lik<(  rnrti-nr,  ntrf»unin<  H  ••!""—  in  the  fifth 
hii»-,  "ilirilrriNof  c],iyi.!«'|.,irt«l"--Hii«!  in  tl.»  •  li*v«-nf!i  hnr.  "  \-> 
in  "••  "lull  iinu  «f  IMT*/'  —  th'1  rhyliun  wf  tin-  \«TI«-  l<«  rom«  •*  th.it 
"I 


25*5  S  O  N  O  »     K  O  II    NATIONAL    AIRS. 

No  more  shall  hero's  ^rm  wield  the  falchion. 
High-born  I  Joel  bore  to  victory. 
Rust  has  dimmed  it ;  time  has  tarnished  it — 
Breathe  us  tours  of  sorrow  ! 


ALOFT  resounds  Llewellyn's  liorn  ; 
Sharp  rings  its  blast,  like  note,  of  scorn  ; 
From  Snowdon's  peaks  it  rolls  at  ir.orn. 

O'er  (iwynedil  j»ron«!ly  MWi-llinjj. 
Its  echoes  bound  from  era*,'  nnd  scar, 
And  borne  by  mountain  winds  afar, 
They  call  the  Cambrian  youth  to  war — 

The  Saxon's  deaih-pcal  knelling. 

Like  lightning's  (lash  on  lake  or  stream. 
The  sword  ol'  Khydderch  darts  its  gleam. 
None,  but  its  own  uncoiHjnered  lord, 
("an  bear  in  fight  that  magic  sword. 
\Vlio  else  dares  draw  if  from  its  sheath. 
Finds  in  its  wasting  llain«-  his  death. 
In  Rhydderch's  strong  right  hand,  it  waves, 
A  meteor,  o'er  yon  Saxon  slaves. 
Such  Rhyddcrch's  sword,  Llewellyn's  horn, 
Far  flashing,  proudly  swelling. 


SON'S     FOi.          .w  .  ,.     A  IRS.  257 

II.  TUB  BAKU'S  Soxo. 
Air—44  Y  BanM  yn  oi  Aw«-n."— (TV  Bard  in  his  Inspiration.) 

HARK  !  yonder  swells  a  music, 

Full,  yet  distant  ;  as  from  heaven, 

Flows  it  through  the  air. 

Uards  !   wake  ye,  and  in  chorus, 

Tune  your  harps,  and  raise  your  voices — 

Welcome  here  the  song ! 

Hail,  heroes,  hards  and  sages, 
Princely  Hoel,  high  Cadwallon  ! 
Night  veils  us,  hut  around  us 
Heaven  is  opened,*  and  its  music 
Lifts  us  to  its  halls ! 


III.    THE  Soxo  OP'  VICTORY. 
Air—"  Ton  Alarch."— (The  Swan's  Note.) 

SHOUT,  shout  for  victory! 
Raise  high  the  paean ! 
Strong  arms  have  conquered — 
Strong  hearts  impelled  them. 
Bright  hymns  shall  welcome  us, 
Loved  arms  emhrace  us, 
Fond  blessings  follow  us 
Home  to  our  halls. 


258  SONGS    FOR     NATIONAL    AIRS. 

Full  is  our  triumph  ; 
Home  now  is  rescued : 
Sun-bright  our  victory ; 
Stain  can  not  dim  it. 
But  for  the  fallen 
Breathe  now  the  requiem! 
Glad  songs  should  bear  them 
High  to  their  heaven. 

Shout,  shout  for  victory ! 
Low  lies  the  invader : 
Heaven  still  protects  us, 
Shields  hearth  and  altar. 
Bards,  tune  your  symphonies ! 
Swell  full  your  chorus  ! 
Bright  deeds  to  other  days 
Flow  on  your  songs. 

Loud  rings  the  prcan — 
Youth  fondly  listens  ; 
Hearts  so  inspirited 
Pant  high  for  glory. 
Soft  tones  of  sorrow 
Breathe  for  the  fallen — 
Welcome  as  incense, 
Rise  to  the  stars. 


SONGS    FOR    NATIONAL    AIRS.  259 

IV.  THE  RISING  op  THE  LARK. 

SEE!  Morning  breaks, 
And  pours  its  light 
O'er  yonder  height, 
And  dewy  bright. 

» 

Young  Day  awakes. 
I  mount  and  sing, 
On  quivering  wing, 
And  bear  to  heaven 
My  joyous  song. 
In  midway  air, 
As  flitting  star, 
'Mid  golden  beams 
I   float  along ; 
While  far  below, 
In  dawn's  first  glow, 
The  woods  attune 

Their  vocal  thron^. 

& 

Thus  lost  in  light, 
With  sudden  fall, 
From  heaven's  high  hall, 
At  love's  sweet  call, 
I  drop  my  flight; 
Then  mount  again — 
The  eye  in  vain 


CGO 


SONGS    FOR    NATIONAL    AIRS. 

Can  trace  me, 

As  1  sweep  on  high  ; 

But  still  the  ear 

Can  ever  hear 

My  clear  notes 

Falling -from  the  sky, 

As  if  in  bush, 

At  evening's  hush, 

The  nightingale 

Close  warbled  by. 

Sing  !  joyous  lark — 
My  heart,  with  thee, 
Mounts  light  and  free — 
High  liberty, 
Its  shining  mark. 
Still  heavenward  fly  ! 
"With  thee,  on  high, 
My  spirit  speeds 
From  earth  afar — 
On  airy  wings, 
Aloft  it  springs, 
To  dwell  'mill  light 
Of  sun  and  star — 
Full-voiced  and  strong, 
It  pours  its  song. 
Like  hymn  that  greets 
The  victor's  car. 


THE  XORXS. 


[The  three  Norns  (\ontir)  were  the  three  Fates  or  Destinies 
of  the  Scandinavian  Mytholoiry.  They  were  re-ally  only  per 
sonifications  of  the  thr«ie  periods  of  time:  the  Past  (L'r.l.)  the 
Present  (VeranJi,)  and  the  Future  (*V&n/cf.)] 

URD. 
FAR  in  the  depths  of  ages  gone  I  dwell — 

Around  me  forms  of  earliest  splendour  rise  ; 
.Temple  and  heaven-like  dome,  with  graceful  swell, 

Blend,  in  their  brightness,  with  the  orient  skies. 
On  pyramid  and  column,  glorious,  shine 
High  myths  of  heroes,  carved  in  mystic  line; 

Mysterious  light,  o'er  all,  from  heaven,  is  thrown  : 
And  songs  of  glory  fill  the  vocal  air, 
Aloft  the  deeds  of  fame  sublimely  bear ; 

Deep  as  the  thunder,  but  how  sweet,  their  tone ! 

VERAXDI. 
On  the  rushing  stream  I  sweep  along ; 

Sun-bright  o'er  me  swells  the  cloudless  blue ; 
23 


262  THE    NORXS. 

Joys  around,  a  gay,  triumphant  throng, 
Lead  mo  on,  with  high  and  cheerful  song, 

Give  me  ever  greetings,  bright  and  new. 
Onward  still  the  stream,  in  golden  glow, 

Heaves  and  tosses,  as  if  life  were  there  : 

Warm  and  kindling,  breathes  the  inspiring  air  ; 
Wakened  by  its  touch,  in  bounding  llow, 

Thought  and  feeling  in  the  jovance  share. 

UKI>. 
Calm,  on  my  high-piled  trophies,  I  repose — . 

On  polished  bronze  I  grave  the  immortal  lay. 
A  stream,  from  unseen  fountain,  by  me  ilows, 

And  Inirrvinsr  bears  my  scattered  leaves  away. 
That  is  the  rushing  stream  that  leads  thee  on : 
Catch  from  its  wave  the  leaves  that,  in  the  sun, 

Quick  llash,  like  ice-gems  in  the  dawn's  first  light. 
These  from  the  holy  past  to  thee  are  borne — 
Look  reverent  back,  nor,  in  thy  joyance,  scorn 

The  gifts  from  me,  that  make  thy  present  bright. 

YKK.VNMI. 
In  my  heart,  a  living  spirit  burns, 

Nerved  to  earnest  act  and  daring  deed. 
Never,  as  it  hastens,  back  it  turns ; 
All  the  past  holds  buried  in  its  urns, 

Win  it  not  to  check  its  onward  speed. 


THE    XORNS.  2G3 

Who  would  give  this  glorious  world  around, 
Sun-bright  stream,  and  fair  and  flowery  shore, 
Hopes,  like  visions,  leading  on  before, 

On,  in  light,  to  time's  remotest  bound, 
Give,  for  all  the  great  thou  hast  in  store  ! 

URD. 

Then  speed  tliee  reckless  on — but  I  remain, 

Where  ancient  glories  still  unfading  tower : 
Deeds,  such  as  mine,  shall  ne'er  be  done  airain — 

The  fruits  of  godlike  thouirht  and  titan  po\vcr. 
Where,  in  the  mvstic.  light  of  orient  skies, 
Vast  pyramid  and  massive  temple  rise, 

In  shade  of  sacred  laurel  I  recline. 
The  golden  sun  of  morning  meets  me  there  ; 
The  first-born  world,  around  me,  fresh  and  fair — 

Its  life,  its  love,  its  music,  all  divine ! 

VEHAXDI. 
On  the  rushing  stream,  away  !  away  ! 

While  the  moments  win  us,  speed  along ! 
As  the  favouring  winds  around  us  play, 
We  have,  too,  a  heart-inspiring  lay ; 

Only  joy  and  hope  awake  our  song. 
Or  should  tempest  meet  me  on  my  path, 

Fearlessly  my  track  I  still  pursue  ; 

Strength  and  skill  is  mine,  to  bear  me  through  ; 


261  THE    XOR.VS. 

Soon  the  wasting  storm  shall  spend  its  wrath — 
Joyous  day  again  its  light  renew. 

SKULD. 
Far  on  the  boundless  deep  I  hold  my  throne, 

Where  clouds  and  darkness  rear  their  wondrous 

wall : 
Deep  in  their  solemn  shades  I  dwell  alone ; 

No  strangers  foot  lias  ever  touched  my  hall. 
The  stream  of  time  still  rushes  to  the  main ; 
Its  golden  waves  attract  the  eye  in  vain : 
Amid  the  clouds  that  round  me  rise  afar, 
One  faint  light  draws  it,  like  a  magic  star. 

That  light  is  from  my  shrine — in  fuller  glow 

It  burns,  than  all  your  brightest  years  have  known  : 

Still  burns  it  on,  in  one  eternal  flow, 

When  past  and  present  fame  is  ever  gone. 

Speed  on,  then,  o'er  the  deep ! — though,  dim  and 
dark. 

High  heave  the  clouds,  be  that  your  beacon  mark! 

Through  the  dun  shades  ye  pass ;  then  holiest 
day 

Sweeps,  in  illimitable  bliss,  away ! 


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The  dream  of  a  day.      1843 


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